


Rendezvous With Death

by The_Nerd_Alert



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Wings, Based on a Poem, Bucky is the Sun, Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2017, Existential Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gods and Deities, Implied Sexual Content, Inspiration Drawn from Art, M/M, Matter of Life and Death, Mild Language, Steve is the Moon, fallen gods, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 22:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11389272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Nerd_Alert/pseuds/The_Nerd_Alert
Summary: Two Gods, of Light and Darkness, bound by Soul and Fate. After a painful separation, the Moon, called Steven by his beloved, is left with the task of stopping the ill intent of the great Viper, Ophelia, from wreaking her destruction on the earth and his children. However, in his quest, Steven must face the Bringer of Death, the Grim Reaper as many have called him, and come to terms with the truth of the careful balance of Life and Death. In doing so, old wounds will be healed, and lost love just may find its resurrection once more.





	Rendezvous With Death

**Author's Note:**

> Salutations, Readers! I have returned after a long hiatus to post a new work in the Captain America Reverse Big Bang! I had the utmost pleasure of being a part of this awesome project, and getting to write a piece for the magnificent artwork, created by my artist Halcyian, and I have to say I had a blast doing it. This piece will be a oneshot, my first ever written, and I do hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had fun writing it!
> 
> Thank you, again, to the moderators of the Reverse Big Bang, and thank you so much to my lovely artist, whom created a beautiful piece of work for me to draw inspiration from. You are all awesome!
> 
> Without further ado, I give to you "Rendezvous With Death"! Enjoy, and remember to leave kudos and reviews!

_I have a rendezvous with Death_  
At some disputed barricade,  
When Spring comes back with rustling shade  
And apple-blossoms fill the air—  
I have a rendezvous with Death  
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.  
  
It may be he shall take my hand  
And lead me into his dark land  
And close my eyes and quench my breath—  
It may be I shall pass him still.  
I have a rendezvous with Death  
On some scarred slope of battered hill,  
When Spring comes round again this year  
And the first meadow-flowers appear.  
  
God knows 'twere better to be deep  
Pillowed in silk and scented down,  
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,  
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,  
Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .  
But I've a rendezvous with Death  
At midnight in some flaming town,  
When Spring trips north again this year,  
And I to my pledged word am true,  
I shall not fail that rendezvous.  
  
~ Alan Seeger

 

~~~~~~

Since the beginning of time, the skies had been ruled by the power of the Sun. The Sun was a bright, cheerful boy eager to share his gift of light and wonder upon the world; a happy soul always eagerly greeted the day with a boisterous laugh that warmed the heavens and the Earth with its lyrical notes and comforting aura. For most, the Sun was known as Friend, Protector, and Lover of all life. More than anything, the Sun enjoyed surveying the land below as he graced the heavens with strong white wings that churned and shaped the clouds with each stroke, and shielded the land below when his laughter became too bright to stand.

Since the Sun’s birth, and with it the formation of the Earth, the land grew and shaped below him just as he grew and aged with each passing century. Soon, he and the Earth were as old as time itself, living on hand in hand as the men of the terrain looked up to the god of the sky with reverence and worship for his warmth, his smile, and his power. The Sun was a bringer of peace and joy, warmth and happiness, and everyone that knew him would feel their days brightened in the most pleasant and comforting embrace as he showered his light upon the world.        

Of course there were many cultures that had different names for the Sun, and he adored every single one of his monikers; names such as Tonatiuh to the Aztecs, Sūryaprabha of the Buddhist worship, and Helios were just a few of his appellations from the men of his Earth. The Sun had even happily embraced the female titles bestowed upon him when his people saw a woman instead of man before their eyes. His favorite feminine sobriquet became Sekhmet, for her depiction of strength and caring the men of his world saw in her work.

Then there was the Moon. Born of the same stars and skies, the Moon shined under the powerful glow of the Sun, soaking up his rays and reflecting them in a starry, blackened heaven to pay homage to the god that had come into existence the very same day as his birth. Much like the Sun, the men of the Earth loved the Moon and worshipped him when it came time for the golden god to rest his weary head at night. Like the love of the Sun, the Moon was deemed special in the eyes of many, for his songs of night soothed the sleeping babes and creatures below, with his lilting voice and tender caresses as he guarded them from the dangers of terrible dreams and the hand of malcontent that threatened the hearts of all impressionable men.

Two gods. Two different paths of life. While one was bright and boisterous, the other was soft and soothing. While one was quick to temper when his children angered him, the other was nurturing and patient, to soothe the wrath felt by the men of the Earth. They were quite opposite from one another, though in their eyes they both shared the same sky-blue twinkle that warmed the hearts of man and god alike, the same loving gleams and mischief that could be rivaled only by one another.

Much like the Sun, the men of the Earth had taken it upon themselves to dub the Moon with names of his very own, for to them the Moon was just as precious as the golden child of the morning sky. First, the Inuit of the North lovingly named their Moon Alignak and he accepted with honor and gratitude. Of the Guarani mythos, the Moon became Abaangui, while the Celtic children under the Moon’s sky called him Elatha. And when the men of the Earth had dubbed his beloved Sun with the illustrious title of Sekhmet, the Moon proudly accepted the name Isis in return.

Despite their differences, the Sun and the Moon had never felt more attuned to another in their whole existences. From the moment the two met, they both knew that they were meant to be One, the other half to themselves, soul mates even. Where one was light, happiness and quick temper, the other was darkness, comfort and serenity.

It had happened quite by accident, when the Sun and Moon met for the first time. Shortly after the formation of the Earth, the Sun in his youth, had decided to linger over the land, watching the small creatures as they settled in for sleep. In doing so, he’d caught sight of the first visage of the Moon, as the young, black-winged deity rose from his sleep to watch over the land in his nightly duties. Oh, how the Sun was taken by the sight of the night god, in his uniqueness and beauty! Unlike the Sun, with his cheerful, tanned face and chocolate brown hair resting in cherubic curls above sky-blue eyes that twinkled with mischief, the Moon was cool and comforting, with a head of golden hair that shimmered in the starry sky as he blessed the sleeping lands with the promises of safe dreams and welcoming arms to rock his people to sleep. The Moon was tall, almost taller than the Sun, and his pale skin rivaled the olive tones of the god’s smooth flesh.

The moment their sky-blue eyes met it had been instant attraction, two hearts instantly melded into one another until it became painfully apparent that neither deity could live in this world without the other. And so, the march of time continued its pace, though now it was blessed with the laughter of the two gods as they danced through the skies together, wings of black and white entangled in one another as their love showered down on the Earth in shimmering Moonbeams and rainbows in the morning sky.

But the Sun was not always so pleasant. Quite often, his happy gaze would be darkened by stormclouds if the men of his world displeased him, or his indignance brightened his rays to impossible degrees, scorching the land below to remind the men of his world exactly who he was and what damage he could wrought if he so chose to. It was these moments that the men of his world were reminded that their god was not to be trifled with, and would prostrate themselves to his wrath until his anger was appeased once more. Even still, it would not be the apologies of the men that would finally slake the Sun’s anger. Instead, it was the soothing tones of his Moon, the golden-haired spirit of night that tempered his anger and brought the smile back to his love’s face. Just the very sound of his name gracing the lips of the one he admired and cherished the most always brought peace back into his fiery demeanor, a careless whisper of teasing and adoration as his other half spoke to him in cool breaths and soothing tones.

As the two grew in age, ruling over the skies and their people with justice and temperance, their adoration for one another grew so powerful, that their sights began to stray from their rigorous duties, to one another. After a time, the pain of separation from one another during daylight or nighttime hours grew so great, one would venture into the realm of the other for just a few minutes at a time. Gradually, the Moon remained in the sky longer, just to see his smiling lover’s face for a few minutes longer. During the summer months, when both Moon and sky were at their liveliest, the Sun began to linger well into evening, just for a piece of his love’s embrace to get him through the hours until he could see him once again.

Every so often, when the wait to see his love was too painful, the Sun or the Moon grew bold enough to taste just a kiss from their beloved. That was when the eclipses began, a phenomenon that both shocked and awed the men who looked upon them. But the Sun and Moon paid no mind to their people. Those moments, however brief they were, were just for the two of them, and they relished the feeling of being in each other’s arms for as long as they could, before the passive god would have to return to his bed and allow the other to work. It was always with a heavy heart and a wilt in their wings as they spirited off to hang up their halos and slumber while their love watched over the men who worshipped them equally. But they both knew it was a burden that could not be avoided.

As the eons passed, and the passage of time continued its march, the men of the world gradually evolved, growing smarter and more aware of their world and their gods above. It was with fascination that the gods of Sun and Moon watched their children grow, turning into fine, independent beings that began to shape the world around them, and gradually both grew to admire their children’s advancements. That admiration grew so powerful, that one day the Moon suggested they give each other proper names. When the Sun questioned his lover why, the Moon simply smiled and said, “Our Earth has always gifted us with names to call upon us, but we have never chosen our own. I want to know you as you wish me to. Not by a name that changes with the passing tides.”

The Sun agreed, for he too wanted to call his beloved by a name that he desired the most. With that, the two began to wonder what names they would call one another, taking years to choose the possibilities. Many seasons passed as the two lovers watched over their lands, until one day, in the twilight hours when Sun and Moon would cherish their time together, the Moon spoke up at last. “I have decided a name to call you, my love,” he said quietly, pressing the sweetest kisses to his Sun’s face. “I have decided to call you Buchanan, for you are the leader to my life, and a powerful soul that governs the land.”

“I, too, have chosen a name,” Buchanan said, beaming down at his Moon. He caressed his face tenderly, his eyes aglow with reverence. “I will call you Steven, for you are the crown of this world, a jewel in the sky and I can worship no other than you.”

And so it passed, that Steven and Buchanan ruled the skies together, all the more powerful now that they have found their true identities together. Steven, or Steve as his beloved grew to call him in the quiet hours they spent together, continued to watch over their sleeping children at night, while Bucky, Steve’s chosen nickname for his love, heralded the skies with his ever-present laughter and smile. The years marched on, the world growing and shaping beneath them as their rule continued on, as it would for eternity under their watchful, loving gazes.

And then it all ended.

Millennia after the formation of the skies and Earth, a new figure made herself known in the world. With her arrival, a new force began to tickle the fringes of Steven and Buchanan’s perfectly crafted world; a force of darkness stained the fringes of life, poisoning the air and bringing a new force to the land. Everywhere she trod, the flowers wilted and the trees began to die, corpses of once fruitful lives left behind in her wake. With nothing more than a touch, she rendered life no more, sucking the vibrance from the world and staining the Earth in the scars of her passing. To look upon her visage, man could describe her as beautiful. With her raven black hair and dark lips, she was a frightening entity, and all that saw her fled from her presence. The entity, called Ophelia,had come into the world with one intention: to snuff out the light and life that had filled the world for so many, many years.  

At first, Steven and Buchanan were unaware of her presence, as everywhere she went, she instilled fear into the hearts and minds of all the creatures until they were so afraid they could not tell their beloved gods whom they had encountered in the world. In their ignorance, they saw not the plot against them, and were unprepared on the day she began to enact her final stance against the gods she so despised.

One day, as beloved Sun and Moon shared in their brief communion to hold them through until the time they could see each other again, Ophelia struck. With a careful hand, she twisted the axis of the Earth below them, until to the great shock of the gods, they became separated from one another. Buchanan, still exhausted from rousing himself from his restful night’s sleep found himself alone in the skies, with no sight of his truest to be seen. As he grew restless, scanning the cloudless night for his beautiful Moon, Ophelia approached him, her gaze powerful, her black hair flowing and enticing him. She was darkness absolute, darker than the comforting embrace that Steven brought to the world, and her smile was smooth, soothing Buchanan’s confusion and worry with nothing more than a nod.

“Sol, why do you look so fretful?” She asked. Caressing her long nails down the side of his face, Ophelia brushed the tender locks of his hair from his eyes as she spoke.

“I have lost my Luna,” Buchanan said sadly. As he spoke, her chilling touch calmed his worries and he leaned into her embrace. Her touch, cool and dark just as his precious Moon’s was, drew him in as her dark eyes flashed in his presence. “He has disappeared from my sight. Do you know where he is?”

“I do, Sol. His darkness is the same that flows through my veins,” Ophelia purred. She continued to stroke her long nails down his cheek before she pressed her palm to his temple in a comforting touch. As a mother would soothe her child she leaned in, her gaze never leaving his. “But I see you desire his darkness, do you not? How you yearn for the cool touch of night, the silver inches of Moonlight. You know this don’t you?”

Buchanan, enraptured by her touch, simply nodded. His eyes softened, and the shine of his Sun dwindled from golden rays, to cooler glow. “Yes… I desire his darkness. I desire so to be with him always. The hours we spend apart pain me, Madame. But why do you ask me this?”

Ophelia only offered up her sweetest smile. As she did, her fingers curled, grasping him firmly and drawing him closer. “Because I can offer you a chance to do just that. To be with and love him always. The darkness calls to you. I see it in your eyes, Sol. You desire the eclipse that would bring the two of you together forever. But you must take my hand. Allow me to take you to him. I will guide you to the darkness you seek.”

Buchanan felt fear in his heart at her words, but he also felt hope. Perhaps this was what he needed. He desired so painfully to be with his Moon always and forever, that the mere mention of the hope of achieving just that was enough to tempt him. Without a word, he accepted her offer, extending his hand to her. His wings, as white as snow, fluttered in excitement that he, too, would finally get to grace the night skies and be with his beloved. He thought not of what the consequence would be of abandoning the daylight skies. Instead, he acted on impulse, focused solely on his beloved and the fantasy of dancing through the night skies with his darling Steven in his arms. They would be one, the light and the dark coursing through the sky together on wings of white and black, the perfect compliments. His heart soared with the possibility, and his soul danced with joy!

But instead of peace, Buchanan found only agony. The moment he gave up his position and renounced his Sunlight, the Viperthat she was, struck. Her fingers pierced him, drawing out his light in great, heaving strokes. The Sun had renounced his post. Had renounced his people! She would take what she desired from him!

Buchanan cried out, pained as she rendered him to his knees. The light of the Sun flickered, dimming as she drew out his power with conviction, his white wings wilting before the gentle, silken feathers turned as black as pitch, and haggard. The pain was nothing that Buchanan had ever experienced, and he cried for his Moon, begging to be saved from his terrible mistake.

But that help would not come. As Ophelia claimed the Sun for herself, Buchanan could only hear the fearful call of his lover, could look up only in time to see Steven rush to him from the far side of the skies he’d been cast to on light feet, pleading for his Sun to be spared. Buchanan saw the terror in his beloved’s beautiful eyes, and he reached for his Moon, pleading for rescue from his soul mate, his other half.

Steven could do nothing as he rushed to his side, watching in horror as Ophelia’s hold took Buchanan, dragging him deeper into the darkness. Stricken by grief, Steven could only wail to the skies as he saw his beloved Fall, cascading from the heavens in a hail of ragged stained feathers, the Sunlight of his spirit flickering before diminishing entirely. And with his Fall, the darkness overtook the Earth, Ophelia’s siren song of death and carnage sweeping the Earth and his children as they slept their night away.

The Sun had fallen. The children of the Earth had lost their beautiful god, the light of the world and the warmth and laughter he brought, forever gone. And Steven, the blessed Moon that had shone so brightly in his love and adoration for his one love, he collapsed under the loss, grief-stricken and heartbroken that his other half had allowed temptation to take its hold of him and drag him from the heavens. Forever separated, they would be, it seemed. And Steven, the now sole protector of the Earth, wept for his loss.

Centuries passed. Time, an ever persistent demon, continued its long, painful march through the universe, and the Earth continued to age far below. But the Earth was dark now. The Sunlight, which had once glowed warm and bright over the Earth, was now dull and dreary, a haggard and exhausted mockery of the bright, beautiful god that had once ruled the skies. With the loss of their god, man began to lose hope in the heavens and in each other, and the dull caricature of the Sun’s presence only heightened these thoughts until at last, the tension could not be quenched anymore. Wars, once a distant nightmare held only by the most fearful, began to take hold of the land, and mistrust, disrespect, and anger filled the world.

Without the Sun, there was no happiness left in the world. Without the Sun, there was only one law: survive and care not for your fellow man. It was a law that overtook the Earth in stride, and it was a law that seemed would never, ever find its prohibition.

In the night sky, the Moon remained at his post, though his heart had long since withered without his beloved. He grew cold and tired, restless and sorrowful. He offered no comfort to the Earth any longer, as his grief was too powerful. Even after so long, he could not bear the thought of being without his Sun, his Bucky, his other half. He was a shell of a spirit, his wings drooped and weak as he no longer danced the night skies as he used to. But he could not abandon his post, and as much as he desired to fall and attempt the long, painful task of searching for his lover, he could not abandon his children.

Faith in the gods had been lost. Without the Sun and without the Moon’s love, worship had come to an end. Apathy was the sole emotion that graced the hearts of his children, and no matter how often Steven tried his best to offer his grace to the world, that grace was rejected by all, as hearts turned to stone and ash, and worship for the god that watched over them fell silent. Now, without his love and without his children, the Moon was alone, left to guard the land from his post, but never again sing his songs or cradle the babes of the Earth in his arms. There was no peace, but for the grieving god, it was all he could dare to offer.

The silence of the Earth grew with each day, hatred and anger a glaring mask over the beautiful land that had shaped under his rule for so long. Just when it seemed that nothing could worsen the toll on which the Earth had been put under, there came a new day. The cries of war, the grief of loss and the agony of hatred had become a constant murmur to the god, as he watched the land whittle itself away into darkness below. But then that day came, and with it, a new whisper of something far more sinister. The clawing fear of death and destruction had begun to awash the land below, as men began to grow fearful once again. For the first time in centuries, the men called upon their god for assistance, and with their call, Steven’s eyes turned Earth-bound, to discover what new evil had begun to flood the hearts of the children he loved unconditionally.

It was the stinking, fetid breath of death. A new darkness had begun to creep over the land, and as the Earth called to its god for help, came the reign of another figure, so powerful and terrifying, even the Moon shrank back from its touch. But Steven knew what this horrid feeling was. Whispers of a name graced his ears, and for the first time in ages, his sorrow was replaced with anger. “Ophelia, Ophelia,” the Earth wept, terrified as life continued to fight against this dark hold. Steven knew, then and there, what must be done. Ophelia, the Viper of Death and the vile creature that had destroyed the Sun before his very eyes, had returned to the land. His wrath could not be sated; he would destroy her for taking away the Sun that all had loved so desperately. She would pay for taking away his beloved.

With this vow, Steven took up his sword, a gleaming white blade emblazoned with stars, to prepare himself to battle the demon that had so callously destroyed the love that kept the Earth alive. His children’s hope would be restored, he told himself as he carefully descended from the heavens to search the Earth for her. His love would be avenged and he would return to the skies, no less heartbroken, but satisfied that her presence was forever eradicated.

He would see to it that her hold on the Earth would end once and for all. For his children, for himself, and most of all, for his beloved Bucky.

* * *

 

The chatter of life in the woods was almost overwhelming as Steve trekked the forest on light feet. His wings, glowing cooly in the dim lighting around him, fluttered with the faintest rustle of black feathers, as he passed by a babbling brook that threaded its way through the forest around him. At least, here, the turmoil of man hadn’t dulled the beauty of the trees around him.

His grip tightened around the hilt of his blade, and he cast glances through the trees, looking for any sign of Ophelia that he could. Even now, with his determination to stop her as strong as ever, he felt weary with the search. It had been three days since he’d left the heavens to find the Viper that had destroyed Bucky’s soul, and still there was no sign of the woman anywhere. Even the creatures whom he spoke to, had no word on here whereabouts. After three days, the venture seemed fruitless, much to his frustration. For a being that had left such a dark mark on the world, she was surprisingly difficult to find.

“Dammit,” Steve cursed, kicking at a small crop of stinging nettles. The tiny thorns of the plant gouged at his bare foot, and he hissed in pain, glaring down at the reddened mark left behind by their sting. “Where could she be?” he inquired himself almost silently, taking a moment to survey the trees around him.

The forest did not answer him. It remained silent, as silent as he had been for far too long.

On the verge of giving up, Steve turned away from his path and sat down at the shores of the brook to rest himself for a time. As he crouched alongside the water, he wrapped himself in his clothing, the thin, silken material comforting against his skin. After three days, he’d hoped for some sign of the woman, but it was without luck. Despite her seemingly lingering presence, there was just no sign of her anywhere, and Steve began to wonder if perhaps the Earth had just been so callously warped by her presence that she no longer needed to be present in order to continue instilling her terror upon it.

But he had to keep looking. He had to! He would not rest until her presence had been eradicated from the world and peace brought back to the land… well, peace enough to put the terrors of his children at least somewhat at an end.

With that newfound determination, Steve rose to his feet again, looking up to the skies above. The heavens were dark without his presence, but even now the speckle of stars illuminated the land below. He felt a surge of comfort at their presence, and he offered up a silent prayer to urge them all to continue their tireless labor of lighting the Earth without him. With his blessing given, Steve returned to his task, blade glinting in the low light as he went.

For hours, Steve scoured the land, searching high and low for Ophelia’s dark hand. But even with his renewed faith in his journey, he felt desperation in his steps as he walked. He would have to return to the heavens soon if he did not find her. He was already long overdue in returning to his post. The stars could not keep up with his high demands forever. Perhaps he could take a few days, ensure that all was in order, and then resume his search… granting, Ophelia did not slip further away from him during that time.

Steve was so caught up in his thoughts, he barely noticed the woods changing around him. What had once been a bed of soft grasses beneath his feet, slowly turned to pebbles and rocks, and the soft fingers of trees slowly warped into the gnarled claws of dead branches above. It was only when he heard the soft, sickening sound of a raven’s croak, did Steve take notice of his surroundings again, and when he did, his heart seized up in his chest.

This was not the forest he had been in moments ago.

Awed and horrified at the sight around him, Steve nearly dropped the blade to the ground. The lush green trees had given way entirely, leaving behind a graveyard of cragged, old stumps and wicked looking corpses behind. The grass and flowers had also given way to a field of pebbles and rocks. The atmosphere was cold, gray, and ominous and the chilly touch of death was present in the air around him. Steve shuddered, wrapping his silken garment around himself to ward off the chill as he surveyed the land.

The only plant life as far as the eye could see, was the faint smattering of blood red poppies along the ground. At first, the blanket of flowers was sparse, dotting the rocks every so often, but the further he looked the thicker the blanket of red became. Gradually, the dead trees slowly faded out, leaving open planes of rock and bramble bushes of thorns and twigs behind. In the distance, the croak of the raven returned, echoing across the dead land, and catching the god’s attention. He looked up in time to see the raven, large and lurking, beat its great wings in the air as it swooped down from the sick, cold sky above. Steve flinched, watching as the raven took its perch on his shoulder, the black talons digging into his bare skin as it fluttered its large black wings in a rustling of feathers.

“ _Ophelia… Ophelia…_ ” the raven spoke, his voice hoarse against the still air around them. At the sound of the Viper’s name, Steve’s heart clutched in his chest, and he gasped out.

“Ophelia… raven, you know where she is?” he asked. He held his hand out, allowing the raven to hop down from his shoulder on the curve of his forearm so he could speak directly with the creature. “Where is she? Take me to her! I must meet her!”

“ _Ophelia…. Ophelia,_ ” the raven moaned once again, before clacking another urgent call into the air. Beating its wings, the raven took flight and shot into the skies, its long wings cutting through the air in pulsing beats.

Instantly, Steve set off after the raven, running on light feet across the rocky terrain. His own black wings cut through the air, fluttering just as urgently as he followed the raven on foot. Above him, he could see the bird flying low, as if leading Steve to where the Viper had taken her nest, croaking every so often before chanting “Ophelia” into the night air. Their trek was short, gouging through the dead fields around them, before at last, Steve tore his gaze from the raven, only to spot a grouping of tall cypress trees before him. They stood together, a mass of green against the grey and stony atmosphere around him. Their leaves, while thick and lush looking in comparison to the dead Earth around them, stood striking against the backdrop of the land, like teeth standing up from the bony-jaw of death itself. Steve gasped, coming to a halt as he watched the raven continue its flight before disappearing into the collective of cypress before him.

For a long moment, Steve did not move. He only stared at the trees before him, stunned at their seemingly alien presence in the dead land around them. With their ominous presence, the sensation of darkness washed over the land, tendrils of sensation that reached out to Steve from their placement in the world, and beckoning him closer with its call. It was strange… this was not the aura of death that he had sensed from the heavens above when he began his quest to find Ophelia three days prior. This was almost familiar to the god, a seemingly enhanced sensation of his own presence that drew him closer with whispers of promise and familiarity. But he held his ground for a moment longer, fighting the urge to enter the trees that his guide had taken roost in.

This might not have held the same, terrifying aura of death that Ophelia had rendered on the land, but it was still out of place. It was the heart of a deceased Earth, the ground barren, and the feeble plant life dying and rotten around it. It was still a nesting ground for some dark force, and Steve would do well to end its reign. The only life that seemed to come from the circle was that of the green cypress trees and the blanketed poppies on the ground, now thicker than ever as they lay amongst the trunks of the trees like pools of blood.

Mustering up the nerve to enter this dark domain, Steve held his sword tightly, lifting the blade before him as he slowly approached the treeline. The moment he crossed from barren land to thick tree coverage, the temperature of the air dropped dramatically around him. He fought back the shiver, wishing silently to himself that he had his beloved Sun to envelope him in strong, golden arms and warm him. Just the thought of Bucky, however, was enough to push him on, and he grit his teeth as he navigated the trees, taking to the very center of their placement to see exactly why they were here, and who would dare take shelter in their presence.

After some time, Steve broke the treeline again, only to find himself seemingly in another world. The air was cold around him, much colder than ever before, and the light from the night sky barely penetrated the massive gallery within. Instead, the light that filled the alcove came only from black candles, dotting the vast interior and lighting the chamber of trees with silver flames. Despite the thick cover of cypress’ around him, the chamber was walled in with the same dead trees he’d found himself near when the raven found him, their crooked branches extending into the clearing like archways as fingers of dead wood reaching inward. The large space was a castle chamber derived entirely from the trees and dead plants around him, and Steve found himself stunned to find the area lined with thick covers of poppies and black roses, a carpet of stinging nettles lining walking paths created out of flat, white stones.

As Steve took in the sights around him, he heard a sound coming from his left. He looked away from the striking interior of this hall, only to spot a creature moving in the shadows. The creature was white and glowing in the shadows, and Steve strained to see what exactly it was. When the creature moved into the light, he gasped at the sight of it. It was a cat, large and ominous, but the cat was not alive. Instead, the feline was entirely bone, the joints shifting as the dead creature slinked out of the shadow to inspect the god before it. Sickened by the sight of the skeleton walking, Steve lurched back when it approached him, his blade coming up to deflect the cat should it leap at it. When it did nothing more than peer at him with eyeless sockets in his skull before bounding into the chamber, Steve exhaled loudly, his eyes following its path.

The cat came to rest in the very center of the room. Much to Steve’s surprise, he finally took notice of the large throne atop a dais created entirely out of bone and rock. The throne itself was carved out of deadwood and its cushions were made from the silk of spider webs. The light of the candles was most plentiful here, illuminating the throne in such a way it cast dark shadows across it. For the first time, Steve saw that he was not alone in this room, for in the throne sat a man, though he was unlike any man Steve had ever seen.

The man was tall, pale, and strong. He was unlike the skeletal remains of the cat that continued to slink around the dais, as he appeared to be full of life. His skin, soft and smooth, was nearly as pale as Steve’s moonlight glow, and his muscled body was swathed in black silk. At the curve of his left shoulder, Steve could make out the scar of a star burned into his shoulder’s flesh. As Steve surveyed the man before him, he saw his head was bowed, as if deep in thought or slumber, and his face was shielded by a thick curtain of dark hair. The strands of hair looked as soft as the silk encompassing his body, and atop his head was a crown of wicked looking thorns. But it was not these things that Steve’s attention rested on solely. No, it was the arch of great wings behind him, resting quietly over the arch of the man’s throne. But they were unlike any wings Steve had ever seen, for this man’s pinions were made entirely of stark white bone, bereft of feathers and flesh.

Steve gaped openly at the sight of the man before him. No, man was not the right word. This was a king, a ruler over darkness, very much unlike the tyrannical hold on life Ophelia held over the land. This king was power in a quiet corner of the world, holed up in his kingdom of death and silence. This was not the creature Steve was looking for, for this kingdom, as drear and ominous as it was, was far too beautiful to be anything of the Viper’s creation.

However, before Steve could depart and leave the sleeping king to his deathly domain, a second set of claws clicked across the stony flooring. He had just enough time to look away from the king, when he saw a flash of white barrel into him from his right. A sharp scream, the snapping of wicked teeth, and Steve cried out, wrenching his hand away in time to see another skeletal creature leap on him to sink its teeth into his hand. He dropped the sword in his grip, the metal clanging against the stones before the skeleton creature snatched it up and rushed it far away from Steve. Clutching his bleeding hand close, Steve gasped as he watched the creature, a fox he realized, bring the sword to its master before dropping the blade at his feet.

For the first time, the king moved, shifting in his throne as he leaned down and picked up the blade in his hand. The starry metal glinted in the silver candlelight as the king observed it through that same curtain of dark hair. As he did so, the bone fox leapt up onto the arm of the throne, and the king offered his companion a loving pat on the head, thanking him for rendering the intruder weaponless in his domain.

And then the king spoke, and Steve’s world shattered around him.

“What is the world coming to, that a god can exit the heavens and infiltrate another’s realm,” the king spoke. His voice was low and gravely, raking across the chilly air between them, but to Steve’s utter dismay, the familiar lilting tones of the king caught him off guard, and he reeled in his spot. The king paid no attention to the gaping god; instead, his bone wings fluttered in the faintest display of aggravation as he lowered the blade before thrusting it into the ground, to stand erect beside his throne. The king lifted his head at last, gracing Steve with a bored look as if it were simply an inconvenience that this god had infiltrated his palace this very night. “If you feel that you have come to bring an end to my domain, I must inform you you are sorely mistaken, Moon. Death cannot be stopped. Why force a hand that cannot win in this fight?”

Upon looking at the king before him, Steve felt his heart reeling in his chest. The ruler of this darkness had finally exposed his face to Steve, and for the first time in eons, Steve felt small and helpless. This deity was no ordinary ruler… to Steve’s horror, he saw not a stranger, but his beloved Buchanan, seated in this rocky throne and surrounded by the cloying chill of death as he looked upon Steve with no recognition in his eyes. It was the same, piercing blue eyes he remembered gazing into his so many centuries before, the same ruby red lips. But his gaze was flat and emotionless. There was not a speck of the love and joy that Steve remembered all those years ago. Like the dead things around him, this was a shell of his beloved Bucky, and Steve’s heart broke all over again.

“B-bucky?” Steve gasped, scarcely able to believe his own eyes. His wounded hand dangled, forgotten at his side, and he found his feet moving on their own as he approached the throne before him. “Bucky… it’s… is it really you? What are you doing? What has happened to you, my Sol?!”

Buchanan didn’t answer him. Instead, his gaze remained locked on Steve, boring into him without regard before he finally rose to his feet. Descending the dais silently, the fallen god approached Steve, their eyes locking for a moment. Buchanan’s ice-blue eyes remained dull, unable to recognize the figure standing before him. Steve remained resolute, his own eyes pleading as he waited for Buchanan to finally answer him.

At long last, the king’s eyes softened and he reached up, brushing his cold fingers along Steve’s jaw. “Steven… Luna. Yes… yes, I remember you now. You were my love, my other half…” Buchanan fell silent, the faintest hint of a smile crooking the corners of his lips. “I have missed you, my Moon…”

For the briefest moment, Steve’s heart soared. His Sun remembered him! After so long, that connection had not been broken! Uttering a pained sound, Steve reached out for the other, brushing his wounded hand along his jaw as if it pained him not to be able to touch his beloved. Buchanan did not stir at that loving caress, and Steve’s apprehension returned to him, when he saw no reaction to his touch. For a moment, the faint trace of red along Buchanan’s jaw from the blood on his own hand left a stain on the pale skin, an unsightly blemish against the marble-cool flesh beneath his palm. “Bucky, please… tell me what happened to you. How did you get here? What caused this… this change to overtake you?”

Buchanan did not answer him right away. Instead, he reached up, brushing the blood on his skin away before examining the ruby liquid against his pale fingers, as if it were far more interesting than the grieving god before him. After a moment, Buchanan lifted his hand and stuck his finger into his mouth, suckling the blood from it before leveling Steve with a careful look. “I can only say that I faced an awakening. All those years ago, I was transformed. What you see before you is no mistake or regretful action. I was shown the darkness of the world, and I let it consume me, wholly.”

“But I don’t understand,” Steve said, biting his lip to stave off the weary sadness for a moment longer. He would not give into his sadness. He had to know the truth. “Why? Why allow yourself to fall when we had happiness together?”

Buchanan offered a faint laugh. He turned away from him, his bone pinions folding elegantly behind him as he paced the hall in even, decisive steps. “It was not of your doing, Steven. Do not allow yourself the arrogance to believe that you did anything to change me. I did not fall because I was no longer happy with our lives. I let it tempt me into its arms because I realized that I did not belong of the heavens anymore.”

“What do you mean, you did not belong?” Steve asked, aghast at his statement. “You belonged indefinitely! You still do! Please, please come back with me. Leave this behind and take your place again, the Earth needs you, Bucky. I need you!” Taking a bold step, Steve extended his free hand, cupping the other’s shoulders to pull him closer in a shaking embrace. “Please, whatever it is that you’ve done over these centuries… they don’t matter. None of it does. Just come back with me, and everything can be set right again. I need you, more than you can understand, my Sun… please.”

“I cannot,” Buchanan said, his voice devoid of any emotion. “I cannot return to the heavens. I don’t belong there anymore. This… this is my calling now. I have found my true purpose and I can’t leave it behind.” He looked Steve in the eye, his expression aggravatingly flat. “No matter how much it pains me to do so, I cannot abandon my post. There is too much that is at stake if I chose to leave.”

Steve listened to him, and with each word spoken, he felt his heart cracking in two all over again. He didn’t understand, not one bit. Why would Buchanan give up the heavens willingly? What purpose did he bring now that he refused to return to his rightful home, at Steve’s side. What could be so important that he would not give up for their children? “I don’t… Bucky, what exactly is it that you feel you must accomplish here? This place… it is not your home. What, exactly, do you do that you feel is so necessary to stay here in this dark, cold place?”

Seemingly waiting for his cue, Buchanan only smiled in return. Without a word, he tore away from Steve’s side, to bend and pluck a poppy from the ground. Without a glance at Steve, he held the delicate little flower in his grip, surveying the vibrant petals with a bored interest. As he surveyed the flower in his fingers, Steve glanced down as well, wondering silently what his beloved wished to show him.

Without warning, the flower began to wilt in Buchanan’s fingers. As if the life had been sapped from the red petals before them, Steve watched as the flower died, withering away to nothing before crumbling to ash in Buchanan’s palm. It was so sudden, Steve felt his heart clench painfully in his chest as he watched Buchanan simply dust the withered flower away, the ash of the petals floating off into the air in little motes of destruction.

“I… I can no longer bring life to the Earth,” Buchanan explained softly. “I only take life. That is my calling, my beloved. I bring an end to life on this Earth.” Turning away from Steve, he returned to his throne, taking a seat as he plucked the star-clad blade from its rocky bed to hold the sword out to him. “Some call me the Angel of Death. The Grim Reaper, I believe is the popular term for my position. Colloquialisms don’t matter. What does matter is if I return to the heavens I will be leaving behind a position that allows for life to flow in its natural state.” With a careful twist of his wrist, Buchanan flipped the weapon over, holding it by the blade as he extended it to his lover. “Besides… I wouldn’t dare leave behind a post that I _enjoy_ , now could I?”

His words sickened Steve. Hearing his once vibrant lover proclaim enjoyment from taking life from the living had the god wavering in his spot, his eyes locked on him in disbelief. It couldn’t be… how could any creature enjoy taking the life from this Earth? How could anyone enjoy such a horrid entitlement… it made no sense to the Moon, and he felt tears prick his eyes. “No…”

“Yes,” Buchanan said, nudging the blade closer to his other half. “But you must understand, as much as I enjoy doing what I do, I don’t offer up death to just anything. There is an order to life passing on, just as there was in bringing life. For those who live well, death is a sweet kiss, a release from this dreadful world. For those who have no honor for others, well… their fate is not so fortunate. And I have ensured the justice of life lost is brought accordingly for centuries. You understand how important justice is, Steve… I couldn’t possibly hand the title over to another being who didn’t understand the intricate balance. Even you could understand that, couldn’t you?”

“No!” Steve said, shaking his head hard. “I refuse to accept that!” Dropping down to his knee before the king, he pressed his hands together, pleading him with everything in his soul to listen. “I can’t let you continue this path, Bucky. You must return with me to where you belong. Your loss… the world is changed. Without your light, our children are at war. There is no love left in the world. If you continue down this path, and continue to bring death to our own children, I fear what may happen to this world. Surely, you have love in your heart left for those you’ve abandoned?”

Buchanan nodded, solemnly. “I do. But Death cannot be stopped. Even if I were to return to the heavens, death would continue on, unfettered. You don’t honestly believe that my fall had anything to do with the evil that has taken over this world, do you? Bad deeds, wickedness… it is all at the hands of men, not my own. I simply offer passage into the next life. I am the ferryman of souls, Steve. Their actions are of no consequence of mine.”

Steve listened to him, and his sorrow quickly turned to anger. What madness had Ophelia brought upon his lover, to convince him to have such thoughts? What had she done in destroying the good, benevolent god that Buchanan had once been? “I refuse to accept that,” Steve said, rising to his feet. His black wings flared behind him, anger trembling the long feathers as they rustled in the cold air around them. “I refuse! And I will not leave until I have broken this mindset you have.”

Buchanan nodded, though his hand never wavered, the pommel of the blade hovering in front of Steve, unyielding. The flutter of wings cut through the air, and the Raven that had led Steve to this horrid encounter, flew down from its perch to alight on the king of death’s shoulder.  “Perhaps that is true… or perhaps, you choose not to leave because you desire to know the truth of what life and death are. How tightly they are woven together. Perhaps… perhaps you choose to stay because you are so taken by my new position and wish to know more.” As he spoke, his lips quirked into the first smile Steve had seen in centuries, though it was not a warm smile. It was cold, calculating, and chilled him to his very soul. “Perhaps you endeavor to be just like me now… two creatures of darkness. You are, after all, the silver Moon of the sky. You are born of the darkness, Steven. Surely, you must feel its call, as I have…”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, and a warmth colored his cheeks. His words struck Steve in a way he did not understand, and he stepped back, shaking his head fervently. “Blasphemy. I do not desire to become death’s right hand. I am a bringer of peace, not pain!”

“Then I suggest you leave this place and never come back,” Buchanan returned, his soft tone darkening into a snarl. He thrust the sword towards Steve, butting the handle into his chest hard enough to shove him back. “I will not leave this post. Not when the Earth and man need me. And if you do not leave now, I promise you I will ensure you never see the stars again! You think I have no sway over the heavens… you are sorely mistaken, Moon. Leave my kingdom, and if you desire to oppose me, I guarantee that I will stop you. Do you understand me?”

Steve blanched, his earlier anger fading away into shock. Never had Buchanan threatened him, in all their eons together. But to hear his menacing words, the promise of forcing his hand into falling, had Steve’s heart breaking into a thousand crystal pieces in his chest. Then and there, Steve knew he would not get through to his beloved. His journey had been fruitless. Ophelia was not the force of darkness that had set the lands awash in terror. It had been his own lover, his precious Sun, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Grief-stricken once more, Steve lowered his gaze and took the blade in his hand. He felt resistance as he pulled the sword away from Buchanan, only looking up when the sound of fluid splashing against the stones below echoed in the cavernous hall around them. He looked up, only to see his own sword slicing into Buchanan’s hand, where he still gripped the blade tightly, and his spirit shivered in horror at the sight of the ruby red blood. But Buchanan did not react. Instead, he released the blade, looking down at his hand and the crimson fluid that welled up in his palm, just as he had when the poppy died in his hand.

With a sigh, Buchanan clenched his fist, allowing his own blood to fall and quench the parched Earth below him before he, at last, took his seat at his throne. “Go,” he muttered, averting his gaze from the Moon. “Return to the skies where you belong. Polish your halo, hang up your sword, and resume your task of guarding the Earth. I have work to do in this world.”

“Bucky,” Steve said, barely above a whisper. But it was no use. Buchanan had closed off once more, leaving him to stare mournfully at the extinguished Sun before him. There would never be light again in this world… not if Buchanan chose to follow this path to the end of time. With a heavy heart, Steve turned away from his lover, and left the dais with silent steps. As he left the throne room, he cast one last look back at his lover, his eyes shining with stars and tears. “I will always love you, my Sol.”

Buchanan didn’t move. Holding back his sorrow, Steve turned away, only to hesitate when Buchanan spoke a moment later. “And I will always love you, my Luna… my darkness found.”

That was that. With nothing more that he could do, Steve left the throne room, chased out by the call of the raven. Seemingly lost in his thoughts, he returned to the outside world, the cold and dreary fields as he looked skyward and returned to the heavens above. As he ascended into his domain, he saw the first visages of early morning light painting the horizon, and the weary exhaustion of what he’d encountered that night finally made itself known. He was despondent as the precious little stars asked him what had become of his search, simply returning to his own corner of the heavens to hang up his sword and rest his head for the day to come. He did not wish to recount what had happened… to him, the need to preserve Buchanan’s previous honor won out against having to share his terrible ordeal with them. He would suffer in silence, as he had for centuries

And yet, as he closed his eyes to sleep through another tired, cold day, Steve realized… now that he knew his lover was alive, his heart would not rest until he’d confronted him once more. Deep down, he knew that he could not allow this knowledge to go to waste. Besides, his long-broken heart could not stand the thought that his lover was so close, and yet so far away. Soon, he would return to the Earth again, to see his lover and be with him again, however briefly. If he had any hope, however slim it was, in changing his Sun’s mind and returning him to his rightful place at his side, then he had to try. He had to…

* * *

 

The forest sang with the serenade of crickets, chirping in blissful ignorance of the pained and scarred world around them. Even still, the song was soothing, and Steve closed his eyes, curled up at the base of a tree as he watched his darling stars twinkling as they played and danced across the black pitch of night sky. A small part of him desired to return to the heavens to join in their company. Perhaps joining in on their song would lighten his spirit some, and bring him the peace his soul craved…

It had been three days since Steve had discovered the whereabouts of his long lost Sun, and upon returning to the heavens, the knowledge that his beloved had become so twisted made his heart ache with the knowledge. The ache had become so great, Steve could no longer focus on his tasks, before he finally abandoned his post to return to the Earth to wallow in his despair. Besides, he couldn’t stand to listen to the pleas of his children, as they continued to lament to their god about the darkness that continued to inflict their world and their hearts with each passing day. Not when there was so little he could do, if they were not willing to change their own actions for the better.

But now, as he spent his nights looking out for the Earth from the planes of this terrestrial atmosphere, Steve slowly began to feel that perhaps his despondency did not stem from the knowledge that his beloved had fallen to such darkness. Instead, his feelings of despair began to manifest themselves in the pull of wanting to see his beloved again, even if his Sun had become a dark shell of his former beauty. Steve could not shake the feeling that seeing Buchanan after so long had awoken something in him that he could no longer ignore. The feeling that his love was alive, just within reach, had the draw of wanting to be near him growing so great he could not ignore it.

With that knowledge, Steve’s confliction grew with each passing night. He knew, deep down, that he could not allow his love to continue entertaining those dark thoughts any longer, but he was helpless in putting a stop to it. How he just wanted to be near him, to sense his presence like a soothing balm on his aching soul! He knew, rationally, that if his Bucky did not wish to end his reign of darkness, that Steve would have to take action to stop it for him. He just couldn’t bring himself to commit such an infraction, not when it threatened to end his life in order to do so!

Growling in frustration, Steve leaned back into the tree, wrapping his arms around his knees as he pondered exactly what it was he was supposed to do to save his beloved from this terrible fate, and bring peace back to the lands around them. Perhaps, he thought to himself… perhaps, instead of stopping him, he could change his mind. After all, Buchanan had been without Steve’s comforting aura for so long… perhaps he just needed convincing that he could change and become the loving, bright star that he once had been.

Hours passed as Steve allowed his thoughts to pervade his mind, obsessing over the terrible ordeal he was faced with. He was so lost in his thoughts, he barely felt the atmosphere of the land change around him. Slowly, the chirp of crickets faded away, until a deathly silence overtook the land around him. Even the light of the stars faded from the sky, as if they too shied away from the new atmosphere forming around the inattentive god. It was only when he heard the sharp vixen scream of a fox in the distance, that Steve finally raised his head, taking stock of his world around him.

He quickly knew that something was wrong. The woods were too silent around him, too still, and the sensation of overwhelming fear washed the air around him in chilled waves. Right then, Steve knew that Buchanan was close… only he could instill such fear in the heart of the Earth around him.

Sure enough, the sharp scream of his Familiar echoed over the air again. With determination, Steve got to his feet, his black wings flaring out in anticipation as he followed the vixen’s cry deeper into the woods. As he trekked across the frightened landscape, the woods grew darker, more foreboding, and he fought back the urge to shiver in the winter chill of Buchanan’s presence. There was only one reason why Buchanan would be out of his domain now… someone, or something, was about to meet their end.

After a brief walk, Steve found himself emerging from the woods into a large clearing. The clearing was beautiful, colored in bright greens and flowers that glowed under the faint starlight above them. The trees, yet untouched by Buchanan’s chilly hand of death, stood around the clearing, sentinels of the forest, and in the very center of the clearing, was a large pond. The water twinkled under the stars, and Steve found himself enraptured at the glittering jewels of light the water’s surface reflected below the open sky.

But it was not the stunning atmosphere Steve focused on. Instead, it was the sight of the bone fox, prowling the pond and sending the fish and wildlife within, scurrying from the edges to avoid its gaping, sharp maw as much as possible. Aside the clearing, Steve saw a figure standing silently, shrouded in a black cloak. The hood of the cloak was pulled up over the figure’s head, obscuring its face from Steve, though it did little good to mask who exactly stood before the water. The bone wings of his fallen lover stood out against the backdrop of the forest, the pinions raised in half-interest as Buchanan lowered himself to kneel before the pond. Without a word, he reached out, letting his fingers ghost over the water’s surface for a moment as he spoke in low, imperceptible mumbles. Steve recognized the words as an invocation of sorts, and as he stood in the clearing, as of yet unseen by his broken Sun, he watched as the water began to churn, bubbling as if brewing over a fire.

Within seconds, the water stilled once more, and to Steve’s horror, he saw dozens of bodies float to the surface of the water. Fish, frogs, turtles, even insects hiding below the water, quickly bobbed to the surface, floating lifelessly as Buchanan sucked their very last breaths from their bodies one by one. Steve even heard the unmistakeable splash of a body hitting the water’s surface; moments later, the body of a mallard floated into view from its hiding spot behind tall grass tufted along the far shore of the pond, to join the corpses of the other animals Buchanan had killed so swiftly.

Sickened by the sight, Steve held back a moan of despair, taking a tentative step back as if he could escape into the trees. However, just as he watched the plant life around the pond begin to dry up and turn brown from Buchanan’s very presence, he heard a faint laugh come from the center of the clearing. He didn’t need to tear his eyes from the corpses laid out before him to know Buchanan had discovered his presence.

“I wondered when I would see you again. How did you like the show?” Buchanan asked. Rising to his feet, he pushed his hood from his head, and the black cloth fell away before vanishing, leaving him in nothing but his silken wrap. “You’re not very inconspicuous. Have you come to kill me, I assume? If so, you’ve waited far too long to intervene in this moment.”

“Why?” Steve asked, ignoring Buchanan’s inquiry. He couldn’t help himself; he was angry. Angry and sickened by what he’d just witnessed. Without a care or a thought, Buchanan had destroyed an entire ecosystem of life. It was a single touch, but that touch had been far reaching. Steve did not want to think what kind of destruction Buchanan might bring if he decided to assault an entire village of their children. “Why did you kill those creatures? They did nothing to deserve it!”

“You’re right. They did not do anything to deserve death,” Buchanan said. Casting a look down at the pond, he watched as his Familiar began to pick off the carcasses of Buchanan’s victims, rushing off into the woods before returning to continue its task of whisking away the dead somewhere far off into the woods. “It still does not mean that their time wasn’t long since expired on this Earth.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Steve said, shaking his head viciously. He turned away from Buchanan, pacing the clearing under the emotionless gaze of his fallen one, before speaking again. “I refuse to believe that their time was over. You chose to end their lives simply because you wanted to. I cannot understand why you would do such a thing!”

Buchanan sighed. Approaching the agitated god, he reached out and touched his arm, his fingers cold against the flushed skin of the other. “You are struggling to accept this. I understand, believe me. But you must listen when I say that there was no other way. I couldn’t simply let them live on. Everything in me could feel that their lives were existing on borrowed time, Steven. It was time to end their existence. Plain and simple.”

“Lies!” Steve snapped, tearing his arm from Buchanan’s grip. He instantly relaxed, when he saw the flicker of some emotion in Buchanan’s eyes, and his heart leaped into his throat at that potential. “Bucky… my love, listen. This… all of this, is a perversion. You’ve been tainted by Ophelia’s control. You have been for so long, but I can help you. Surely, you don’t take joy in sapping the life out of those whom you helped nourish for so long. Surely, deep down, you still feel for these creatures?”

Buchanan hesitated. His eyes cast downward, to the grass below their feet. Steve followed his line of sight, to the ground below, and he felt a raw sickness in him. The grass within which they stood, had taken on a stark contrast in their presence; where Steve stood, the blades were bright green and lively… where Buchanan stood, they withered and turned sickly. Steve grimaced, but pressed on, in hopes of finally breaking through to him. “Bucky… my love. Please. Please, let me help you. Let me wipe away your sins and return you where you belong. I swear to you, we can fix this. Return you to your rightful place and undo the wrongs caused. You will be forgiven for what has happened, I swear to it. Just please, come home with me. Let me help you!”

Buchanan listened to him, his eyes still locked on the dead grass below his feet. He seemed to contemplate Steve’s words, mulling over them in consideration. For the briefest moment, Steve felt hope that maybe he’d convinced Buchanan to return with him. Perhaps this nightmare would finally be over.

But it was not to be. After a long, painful moment of silence, Buchanan only laughed, a derisive noise that sent Steve’s hopes crashing to the ground like broken glass. “You don’t understand anything, do you Steve…” Buchanan mumbled. He finally met his gaze again, his lips quirked in a smile. Behind him, his wings flared, the bones creaking loudly against the still air around them. “I cannot return. Even if I wanted to, the heavens would not accept me back. I have Fallen, Steven… my wings are no more. My halo… tainted. Even if I were to repent for my sins, I am not fit to return to the stars. Not when my work here is far from complete.”

With a wave of his hand, Buchanan turned away from Steve, approaching his familiar’s side before he extended his arm to him. With a yip, the bone fox leaped into the air, allowing Buchanan to catch him and cradle him to his chest, as gently as a mother would hold her child. “Besides… I’ve already told you. I cannot leave my task to another, nor can I leave the mantle of death behind to linger without a master. I cannot let death vanish from the world, Steven. If I did, life would just continue on, unhindered-”

Steve had had enough of his poisoned words. Disturbed that Ophelia had so twisted Buchanan with her touch, he burst in anger, his words echoing over the clearing around them. “That is the point!” he bellowed. His black wings flared behind him, the feathers rigid with his anger. “We were born of the skies to protect our children, not bring them to their end!”

“And what are you going to do about that,” Buchanan asked, his eyes hardening in defiance. “Do you plan on stopping me? Would you dare to end my life, simply to allow the world to continue reproducing itself, unsupervised and without control? Is that more important to you than anything, Luna? Look me in the eye and tell me so!”

Steve hesitated. For a moment, his bravado deflated, anger melting into uncertainty. Would he take that step? Bring an end to his beloved? He’d just found him after so very long… could he bring himself to end his life with his own hands, when his fall hadn’t been his Sun’s doing in the first place?

It didn’t take long for Steve to realize the truth. In defeat, his wings wilted behind him, and he locked his sorrowful gaze on the ground. He didn’t answer him, instead letting his actions speak for him. Before him, Buchanan offered a short laugh, a triumphant laugh, before speaking. “No… I thought not. Not that it really matters at all.”

Steve frowned. Why did Buchanan continue to mock him in his misery? Why did he not understand how it pained Steve not to be with him as they had for so long? “It still makes no sense to me why you choose this life… surely, the Earth would not suffer without your dark hand in it.”

Buchanan shrugged a shoulder, looking far too bored with the topic. “Perhaps it is the same reason why you choose to follow me, even when it is apparent that I will not be swayed from my task. Perhaps, Steven… perhaps the darkness calls to you as well.” Flashing a dangerous smile, Buchanan canted his head in invitation to the god. “Is that it, Steven? Do you desire to be just like me? To fall more deeply into the darkness that already fuels your very soul?”

Steve shivered. End this torment, he begged his lover silently. Please make this suffering end… And yet, he still could not argue his own stance. So quickly, Buchanan had broken down his defenses, rendered him weak to his control. What if he was right… what if the darkness was just too great to withstand? Would he, too, succumb to his own nature and become a creature of darkness?

‘ _If it meant being with him once more…’_ his traitorous mind supplied. Horrified at his own thoughts, Steve stiffened, shaking his head viciously to clear the thoughts away. No! He would never let himself fall! Not when he was needed to ensure life continued on, despite his own beloved’s wicked actions! “You’re wrong. I will not become as you have. I refuse to let myself!”

Just like that, the spell was over. The skies lightened around them, and to Steve’s great shock, he realized what had nearly happened. He’d almost succumbed, right then and there, to the darkness in his own soul. He’d almost fallen, guided by a simple phrase from the one he loved more than anything. But he hadn’t… he’d passed the test. Passed the test, or… or resisted it for awhile more, at the very least. To his own, sickened mind, he realized it was most likely the latter.

Nevertheless, Buchanan seemed unswayed by his resistance. Instead, he offered up a shrug, a bored look, and turned away from him. “It matters not, it seems. The path you take from this moment on, I cannot control. Stay… go… I do not care which. Whatever you choose to do, Steven, is your own decision. But what I can promise you is this…” he paused, his eyes burning in the low light. “If you choose to fall into the darkness within you, I will not stop you from succumbing to its siren call. In fact… I welcome it.”

With that, Buchanan fell silent at long last. Without a passing glance to his other half, he turned away from Steve’s presence, disappearing into the trees around them. With each step he took, his presence cut through the trees and foliage around him. Like a drop of water evaporates, Steve watched as the very spirit of the forest withered in Buchanan’s presence, shriveling up and dying as he cut a path through their thickness.

Steve watched him go, unable to stop him in his path. To his surprise, he found himself drawn to the regal air with which Buchanan held himself, guided through the forests around him with little more than the faint glow of his own essence guiding his path. Now, more than ever, he realized how drawn he was to his lover’s presence, his confidence and power as he held the lives of all living creatures in the palm of his hand, ready to snuff it out at a thought.

Still in the throes of his reluctant admiration of the air with which Buchanan carried himself, Steve found himself startled from his thoughts a moment later by the familiar sound of the raven’s call. He looked away from the dead trees which Buchanan had disappeared through, only to spot his black-winged companion come fluttering into view from the skies above. Alighting on his shoulder once more, the raven plucked at Steve’s hair, tugging the golden strands insistently, as if to urge the god to follow after his lover without delay. His wings fluttered a little, beating the air in a brief staccato before uttering a short call into the air around them. “ _Follow… See…”_ the raven mumbled, looking down its great black beak at the god before taking flight once more to trail after the fallen one.

Steve watched the raven depart, and a shudder raced up his spine. His own wings, itching to take flight and follow after Buchanan, twitched at his back, and he fought the urge as much as possible. Even still, as he found himself alone in the woods, with nothing more than a trail of death and stillness laid before him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that slowly began to form in his chest. It was a sensation almost foreign to him… a sensation he hadn’t felt in eons of living. It was only after he’d mulled over the thoughts for a moment more, that Steve realized what it was his soul craved at that very moment. He was drawn to Buchanan’s embrace, the faint curiosity to see what might happen if he allowed himself to travel down that path, and his earlier anger all but disappeared. He knew, then and there, that perhaps the fallen one spoke the truth. Perhaps, he realized with growing realization… perhaps he was to follow the raven’s advice and see where this path, laid so blatantly before him, might travel.

“What am I doing…” he thought to himself in dismay. How easily, his love had tempted him into traversing this darkness, and letting it consume him. More importantly, how readily he wished to succumb to it, the longer he peered after his love and let his desires to hold him in his arms once again overtake him. “Could goodness come of this, after all? Is it even possible to find goodness in such darkness…?”

Confused more than ever, Steve slumped to the ground, his wings folding over him as he pondered the thought. Time passed, as the night crawled on around him, his own thoughts and confusion warring with his convictions so savagely, he could not stand it. At long last, exhausted in his internal battle, Steve witnessed the beginning of a new day, dawn lighting the sky in the distance.

What if Buchanan was right… what if his resistance was futile? Would he allow his own spirit to overtake him, and follow after his extinguished Sun’s footsteps? He didn’t know.

All he did know, was that he needed answers. He needed time to accept or refute what had transpired. And there was only one that could give him the answers he sought. He needed to find the council of the Scarlet Witch.

With his mind made up, Steve got to his feet again, setting off into the forest to find her home. He knew she was the only Earthly guardian that could peer into the depths of a god’s turmoil and put his mind at ease. If she could reach into his very soul and answer his questions, then… and only then, could Steve allow himself the luxury of deciding his beloved’s fate.

Deciding his own fate.

By the time the dull Sun was high in the sky, Steve had traveled the far breadth of the forest, only to find himself seemingly at the edge of the world. There, in a small home overlooking a bay of the ocean, he found a little house, surrounded by exotic, flowering plants. The house was cheerful to look at, built of logs and stones, and the chimney was smoking merrily into the clear skies above. From here, he caught the scent of her witch’s brew, a sweet and comforting aroma that lofted into the air and comforted his aching soul with its fresh tang of eucalyptus and lavender. Outside the house, he spotted the witch hunched over a large pot boiling over a fire. The witch was young, with locks of lovely brown hair flowing in curls over her shoulders, and her robes were blood red, reflecting her title in regal, crimson tones. Across from the young woman, Steve spotted a man of equal age, his robes black and closely stitched to his body, his hair a shock of silver on his crown. The two of them spoke, laughing at what the other said, before the young man gave the cauldron a stir with the paddle that stood almost erect from its thick contents. They were so caught up in each other’s company, they did not notice the god watching them from the cover of trees.

Before Steve could properly make his presence known, however, the sound of twigs snapping behind him caught his attention. Within a second, he felt the sharp bite of metal against the back of his neck, a fine point and ruthlessly unyielding against his skin. But he did not worry.

He knew exactly who was behind him.

“What’s this? A god who allows a mere guardian like myself to sneak upon him without warning?” a warm voice cut into the trees. Steve heard the laughter in his tone, and the arrow tip at his neck jerked with his chuckle. “A shame, really. You must be losing your touch, after all these years.”

“Clint,” Steve said, smiling in comfort. He turned around, only to spot the guardian of the hunt watching him with an equal smile on his lips. “You know your arrow would do no harm to me. Why do you threaten an old friend so needlessly, when I could simply catch your arrow before it left its notch?”

Clint sighed, lowering his bow before returning the offending arrow to his quiver. “Aye, you are correct. It pains me, just how unjust this arrangement be. At least allow me the honor of one fair shot, your reverent one.”

“Not a chance,” Steve said, grinning at him. He pulled the guardian into him, the two sharing a brief hug in greeting before he stepped away. “I do apologize for interrupting such a peaceful moment in your home. How do your charges fare these days? It has been far too long since I have seen you all.”

“All is well,” Clint said, shouldering his bow before gesturing to the clearing. “Come, greet the young ones, they will be pleased to see you.”

“I do not wish to interrupt dear Wanda’s brewing,” Steve said. “To what occasion does she work this morning?”

“Nothing more than a stew to fill our bellies with this evening,’ Clint said, patting his quiver lovingly. “A stag had been disturbing her gardens. I took care to ensure that in his old age, he gave back to those to deserve it.”

Steve nodded, though he couldn’t help the shiver that overtook him. The thought of death, even in such an innocent place, made his wings shiver in discomfort and he turned his attention away from the pot, only to spy the siblings watching him. “A blessed day to you both,” he said, pushing the negative thoughts from his mind.

Wanda rose quickly, dusting her hands down her robes before gesturing to her brother. “Pietro! Rise!” she said. The moment the silver-haired man took to her side, the two of them dropped to one knee, bowing their heads to the god together. “Blessed Luna, to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence? Strange, that you should seek us out in the morning hours.” Wanda said, offering him an eager look.

At her side, Pietro nodded, struck dumb by the sight of the Moon god before him. His eyes, as big as saucers, remained locked on him, and he struggled to find his voice. “I-Indeed, Bright One. W-we… forgive us, for our impudence. Wh-what I mean to say is... We did not know you were here.”

Wanda cast her eyes skyward in resignation, slapping her brother’s arm before giving Steve a sheepish look. “Forgive my brother. He may be the guardian of swift travel, but his mind is slow at times.”

“That is not true!” Pietro said, sounding indignant at her claim. “Besides, it is not right that you should hit your older brother! Especially not in front of a god!”

“You are older by an insignificant amount of time, brother! That you would think mere minutes makes you the mature sibling!”

Clint broke in, groaning as he held his hands up. “Ageless they may be, but children at heart I think is their true calling.” His words rang true, and despite their bickering, Wanda and Pietro fell silent, hanging their heads in embarrassment for their behavior before the god.

Steve simply smiled. It warmed his soul to see such life in these two, and he held his hand up to silence them. “Worry not. It comforts me to see the love between you two, even if you think it not,” he said. His hand dropped again, and for a moment, his glow faded as his wings folded behind himself meekly. “I come to seek council from you, Witch. I seem to have… come upon a dilemma and I need your help to decide what would be the best course of action to take. I hoped, perhaps, I could remain here under your guidance until my dilemma is resolved?”

Instantly, Wanda and Pietro’s eyes lit up and they bounded to their feet with eager smiles. “Anything that we can do to help!” they said in unison, eager to be the fated guardians of the world to assist a god of all creatures.

Emboldened by their enthusiasm, Steve felt his wings drooping in relief, and he nodded. “Thank you. I swear not to impose too much on your good time.”

“Not at all, you are welcome here as long as you need,” Wanda said, gesturing to their little home. “I can only apologize that it is not as extravagant as the heavens you herald from-”

“No!” Steve replied, looking appalled. “It is perfect. I could ask for no better hospitality.”

His words seemed to comfort the guardians, and both wanda and Pietro relaxed before him. With the promised assistance from the guardians before him, he allowed himself a moment to relax, watching as the siblings got right to work preparing the cottage for their godly visitor. At his right, Clint offered up a reassuring look before bidding him good day as he set off into the woods to fulfill his own duties.

Now, left alone once more, Steve allowed his mind to wander back to the previous night and his encounter with his fallen love. Exhaustion overtook him, as the pull of Sunlight’s day weighed heavily upon him. With nothing more that he could do at that moment, he waited quietly by the fire, watching the stew bubble merrily away in its pot, before Wanda returned to inform him that a bed had been made for him. Grateful for her help, the god slipped inside, folding his great wings behind himself to avoid damaging the surrounding walls. Almost instantly, he slumped into the bed, resting his head on the soft down pillow as sleep overtook him. He would ask Wanda after he’d gotten some sleep. Perhaps, then, his mind would be at its most clear, to to best handle the situation laid before him…

* * *

 

The feeble Sun had long since left the sky by the time Steve roused from his slumber once more. Upon waking, he found the cottage quiet and cool. Only the sound of low voices talking outside had him rising to his feet once more. He slipped out of the house, only to find Wanda and Pietro sitting around the fire, enjoying their meal and waiting for the god to rise once more. Clint was nowhere to be found, however, Steve knew that that was not unusual. The hunt was often known to extend well into the night.

“Good evening, Luna,” Wanda spoke up, startling Steve from his thoughts. She rose to her feet and gestured to the fire, bidding the god to take a seat beside her. “I trust you have rested well?”

“I have,” Steve said, offering her a contented look. He took his place next to her, folding his black wings back from the flicker of the fire before him. “You are ready to assist me in my troubles?”

“Of course,” Wanda said. She glanced at Pietro, extending her hand to him as the silver-haired youth placed a small bag of herbs in her palm. Without a word, Wanda poured the contents of the bag into her hand before sprinkling them over the fire. In an instant, the flames faded from golden amber to deep red, and she closed her eyes, inhaling the Earthy scent that wafted from within. “Give me your hands, and allow me to read your thoughts. Surrender that control so that I may be able to understand fully.”

Steve nodded. He extended his hands to her, watching as her slim fingers wrapped around his as she pulled them closer, palms up. Almost instantly, a soothing warmth overtook him, making him shudder from head to toe as her fingers traced over his palms, and silent words uttered from her lips. He felt raw and exposed to her, as if she’d opened up every vein in his body to spill his crimson blood onto the cold ground below. His mind swam as she pervaded his thoughts, picking through them one by one, and he felt himself swaying in his spot. It was only when he felt a second pair of hands on his shoulders, did he look up to see Pietro standing behind him, supporting the weary god as Wanda continued her reading.

Just when he felt he could no longer stand to have the Witch scouring his mind for the truth, Wanda released him, her eyes wide in shock. “The Sun… he lives,” she said, meeting the Moon god’s gaze. Her eyes, brimming with his shared grief, spilled over as two tears traced the lines of her cheeks. “He’s fallen into darkness. And you fear that his passage from light to dark, will consume him wholly.”

Steve nodded. At his back, he felt Pietro shifting uncomfortably, clearly as disturbed by the news as he had been several nights prior. “Yes,” he managed to respond, his voice breaking with the strain. “He has given up the light to pursue this path of darkness, and I do not know what can be done to convince him to return with me to his rightful place.”

Wanda listened to him, her eyes locked on the crimson fire beside her. Her hands remained folded in her lap, mulling over his words carefully. After a moment, she seemed to reach a conclusion, and her gaze met the god’s once more. “And yet, your resistance to his tempting call is waning with each passing moment. You desire to allow his darkness to consume you, just as it has consumed him.”

Steve listened to her, taken aback. He had expected the Witch to look into his future and tell him how he could stop his love from wreaking havoc, not affirm his own dark desires so easily! “That’s not true,” he said, denying her words vehemently. “I do not wish to allow his darkness to control me. I want only for the Sun to return to his throne beside mine. Not continue to pursue this needless venture of wreaking death on our children!”

Wanda did not answer. Instead, her gaze remained locked on the god, piercing his very soul with the harshness of her gaze. Instead, it was Pietro that spoke first, breaking the tension in the air with his comforting words.

“Perhaps Wanda is correct,” he said quietly, drawing the god’s attention on himself. “Perhaps you feel weak to your lover’s pull, but not for any desire to fall. Sun and Moon, always inseparable… Songs and ballads were sung of your love for years. What if your feelings are simply misinterpreted, because you desire so strongly to be with him.”

“And you say my desire to take my lover into my arms again, forces me to desire darkness?” Steve asked, almost bitterly.

“No,” Pietro replied easily. “I understand what it is to be bound so deeply to another. I could never, in a million years, ever see myself without the company of my sister. Even the temptation of falling would be enough for me, if it meant I could be with her after separation. To think that you suffered so much over time, and have been thrust back into a reality where you lover is alive… it makes sense that darkness would seem enticing, if it meant getting to be with him once more.”

Steve listened carefully. He supposed the young guardian’s reasoning made sense. Even still, as the tingle of curiosity rose to the forefront of his mind, as if validated by the youth’s words, Steve did his best to ignore the darkness. “Even still,” Steve said firmly. “I have found him once more. I must know how to rescue him from this madness. Surely, you have the answers, Witch?”

Wanda did not speak. Instead, her gaze remained locked on the god, almost amused as she surveyed him. When he grew uncomfortable under her gaze, she finally cracked a knowing smile, as if her prying had unEarthed the truth to him. “Perhaps it is not your destiny to stop him. You, yourself, have already answered many of your own questions. You would do anything for him… you love him unconditionally, and you would defend him from any force that wished to cause him harm. Now the answer you must find is this: when are you willing to accept that the darkness in your beloved will bring you the peace your soul has sought for so long?”

It was certainly not the answer the god sought. Hearing her confirm his own, growing curiosity, Steve felt a surge of anger. No, no, no this was not what he’d wanted to hear at all! Growling under his breath, he pushed himself away from the fire, deeply in denial of her words. “No. I refuse to accept that answer,” he said, his wings flaring out in his agitation. “It can’t be true. I won’t let it be true!”

Wanda sighed, looking pained to offer the god her answer. “Unfortunately, there is no other path in your future. Your agony only stems from the fact that you are not willing to admit to yourself that you cannot separate from the darkness… just as your Sun could not resist its pull when he fell in love with you so long ago.”

“You say that I am the reason he has become the way he is?!” Steve said, indignant. “That my darkness is the reason he brings death upon the Earth?!”

“Not at all,” Wanda said, placating him. “However, the fates have set this path in motion for centuries. Your desire to love him, despite the sheer opposition his nature calls upon his past life, proves that the darkness can be good. Perhaps you have yet to learn what it is your own essence was created to achieve, and his Fall is the catalyst of that pursuit of knowledge.”

The god couldn’t believe it. He had sought out the guardian’s help to solve his problem, not make it worse! To think that the fates deemed it proper that Steve should allow Buchanan to continue his crusade of death… “You’re wrong,” he croaked, shaking his head in dismay. “The fates cannot hold sway over me. I will not let Bucky continue down this path. I will save him.”

Wanda sighed, rising to her feet. “I know it is difficult to grasp. Allow yourself time to understand, but know this… you will find your peace soon, Luna. Even if that peace is in the most unlikely  of places…”

* * *

 

The forest was silent around Steve. Neither birds, nor beetles sang their song, casting the trees in unnatural stillness around him. But that silence did not bother Steve. Not when he desired, so deeply, to be alone.

The god hadn’t slept. Not since his encounter with the Witch’s reading. After the young woman had offered him the answers he feared, Steve had left the cabin to ponder her words alone. Night turned into day, and finally night once more, leaving the god exhausted as he trekked the woods. However, his self-imposed solitude did not change the answers Wanda had given him. In fact, his silence seemed to cement them further in reality, an unyielding force that slowly drowned his emotions until at long last, he could no longer ignore them.

Wanda had been correct, after all. His own darkness, the silver light of the Moon cool and comforting, belonged in the darkness. And his own love for his fallen one only drilled that point home to him. There was no other answer to his plight. He knew, then, he had simply been bucking the inevitable, when he should have welcomed it with open arms.

How could he think otherwise, when his beloved was alive, just as he’d prayed for, for centuries?

Exhausted, Steve all but collapsed beside a river, watching the tumultuous waves of rippling gems flicker in the starlight gleaming from above. He was so caught up in his own thoughts, he barely had the chance to recognize where he was, until the familiar call of the raven made itself known. Looking up, Steve recognized where exactly he’d found himself, as the distant rise of the cypress trees stood erect in the distance. The river was cold, far too cold for a summer’s night, and as he traced his fingers through the burbling water, he saw the reflection of the raven cast overhead in its face.

Without looking up, he knew what he would find. Sure enough, as he raised his eyes from the water, he spotted his love standing a few scant feet away from him. Buchanan’s eyes, locked on the starry heavens above, did not break their hold on their beautiful faces. He did, however, speak to Steve, his words soft and comforting.

“I understand,” he said quietly. His bone pinions flickered slightly, and he finally looked away from the stars to meet Steve’s gaze head on. “I understand your fear. I held it too, when the truth was shown to me.”

“What do I do?” Steve asked, sorrowful. Even still, the sight of his love before him eased his broken heart, and he rose to his feet to approach him. “This darkness you speak of… what is so special? Why is it that death finds such importance in the world?”

Buchanan hesitated. His eyes, soft and soulful, poured love into Steve and he reached out to him. With the most tender of grasps, he took Steve’s hand in his, pulling him closer to his side. With a soft sigh, Buchanan pressed his lips to the backs of his knuckles, christening them with his love, before tugging him toward the trees. “Come with me. There is something I must show you.”

With that, Buchanan tugged Steve along, his steps decisive as he lead the march into the dead trees around them. Unable to resist, Steve allowed his Sun to pull him along, curious and the slightest bit eager, to finally find the answers he sought so deeply. Without words, the two of them set off into the trees on a nameless venture, led only by the confidence of the Sun and the curiosity of the Moon.

When it seemed that the two of them would walk together through the darkness of night into dawn, Buchanan finally came to a stop. Together, they stood in a copse of trees, where a fat little bird fluttered around eagerly as it plucked the beetles and bugs from the ground eagerly. Curious, Steve watched as Buchanan approached the bird, speaking soothing words to the creature, before the fat bird leaped up into his palm.

Buchanan never tore his attention away from the creature. As he spoke, he dropped to his knees in the grass, soothing the bird into calmness until at last, its wings stopped fluttering so vehemently. Instead, the bird seemed to be thrown into a trance, listening to the god of death with rapt attention.

Instantly, Steve felt a twinge of discomfort in his chest. He knew, then, that this bird was about to face its demise, but his own curiosity and desire for knowledge kept him from interceding. Instead, he watched silently as the Sun lowered his hand to the ground once more, and the little bird hopped out to stand, transfixed, in the grass. Then, just like that, Buchanan rose to his feet again, and stood beside the Moon.

“Bucky?” Steve asked, glancing at the bird. “What’s happening?”

Buchanan shushed him, pressing his hand to the small of his back just below his wings. His touch was cool, but no less comforting. “Just watch…”

With that, the two gods fell silent once more, watching the bird. The creature did not move an inch, staring straight ahead into the trees. As the bird stood frozen, there came the sound of rustling coming from the bushes off to their right. Steve turned, curious as to what new creature made itself known, before he spotted a red fox lurking in the shadows. Steve’s heart leaped into his throat at his realization, and he moved to intervene before the fox could spring on the unsuspecting bird. Instead, he felt Buchanan’s hand on his back, staying him, and to his own shock, he allowed himself to be held back.

In an instant, the fox sprang into action. With a yowl it pounced on the bird, tearing into it with a single bite. In a moment and a spray of blood, the bird died in the fox’s jaws, and Steve felt his stomach lurch in horror at its death. How he did nothing to intervene, and how he stood back, watching in morbid fascination as the fox slaughtered the little bird before him. Within seconds, it was over; the bird was dead, dangling limply from the fox’s jaws as the creature trotted off into the woods with its kill.

“Bucky,” he gasped, looking to his lover with tears in his eyes. “Why was this bird’s death necessary? What could possibly be the purpose in showing me its demise?”

Buchanan looked up at his lover, his eyes soft. To Steve’s great surprise, he saw tears in his eyes, and he offered up a faint sigh. “Look into the trees. Follow the fox, and you’ll understand.”

Confused, Steve could only obey his words, following the fox’s trek on light feet. He broke the line of the trees, navigating his way through their thick foliage until he spotted the creature tucked into a little nest of bushes. Curious, Steve crept closer, dropping down to investigate what it was the animal was doing, before he gasped in surprise.

Before the fox was a small nest, and within that nest was a litter of four kits. They were tiny, almost painfully tiny, but their weak motions perked up instantly as the mother fox dropped her prey onto the ground before them. Eagerly, the kits leaped onto their meal, feasting on the fat little bird’s body, until there was nothing left but bone and feather on the ground.

Then, Steve knew. He understood what Buchanan had meant, when he expressed his task to him. Without his help, the bird would have lived on, able to fly away, and the poor mother fox would not have been able to feed her young. The bird’s life had ended, but the cycle of living had continued on in its passing.

“The balance of life is restored,” Buchanan said, quietly. His voice startled Steve, who looked up to see the god standing behind him, solemnly. “You see what the death of the bird meant for life, do you not?”

Steve nodded, watching as the kits fed, before curling up happily in their mother’s fur to rest after their eager meal. “I do… without the bird’s passing, the kits would have died. Life continues on, despite the face of death’s cold hand.”

“Exactly,” Buchanan said. He dropped down beside the Moon god, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “The passing of the bird is indeed sorrowful, but it is not without due cause. The bird was selfish, you saw. Feasting beyond its needs, to grow fat and entitled in this world. In his living, the other, lesser abled creatures were unable to feed themselves, but in his passing, their chances of life are greatly extended. And in his death, he is able to give back to the Earth he stole from so selfishly, by feeding the lesser fortunate.”

“So the creatures in the pond,” Steve said, revelation lighting his eyes. “They died to preserve life as well?”

“Yes,” Buchanan said. “They might have died, but their bodies were able to nourish those who were too sick to travel. The pond may be bereft of life, but the lives of those who overpopulated its ecosystem have been quenched, to allow for new life to grow within. And those who could not feast before, have been given the strength to carry on, at least for awhile more.” Turning to face Steve, Buchanan cupped his cheeks in his palms, pressing his forehead to his. “Your work all these years has been to feed and nourish life, without end. But without death, how can the world appreciate the goodness of living from day to day? I do not do this to usurp your control, or my previous life’s work. I do it to ensure that the world continues on, without suffering, starvation and sickness. It’s a precious balance, My Luna. And I cannot leave my work behind… not when the Earth needs me to ensure the cycle goes on, safely.”

All at once, Steve understood. Buchanan did not commit death to spite the world… he did it to honor it. Without death, he understood that life could possibly overrun the world, where food and comfort could quickly be extinguished. His love’s work was not a damaging cause… it was a noble one, to be in charge of work so difficult. It was easy to give life… it was a god’s task to take it away when it was necessary.

As he allowed himself to accept his lover’s truth, he felt the raven alight on his shoulder once more. Without looking up, Steve reached up and caressed the bird, listening as the raven croaked “ _Follow, follow”_ into his ear. Then and there, Steve knew. He knew the truth in his lover’s words, the truth in his work. He understood how strong and beautiful his lover had to be, in order to bring death justly to the world. Wanda had been right… he couldn’t avoid this fate, and he knew he would follow his lover’s steps until the ends of the world.

“Show me,” Steve whispered into the quiet air. He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose over his beloved’s in a tender brush. “Let me follow you down this path. Show me how wrong I have been to doubt you, my Sol…”

Buchanan smiled. It was the first, genuine smile he’d worn in ages, it seemed. The sight of it warmed Steve’s spirit to his very core, and he felt a shudder of delight at that warm expression. Without warning, Buchanan leaned in, brushing his lips over the swell of Steve’s jaw, caressing the smooth skin there before he tilted his head to him.

The moment their lips brushed, it was a starburst of sensation. Steve shuddered as he felt Buchanan’s lips brush over his own, nipping the sensitive skin before he suckled the swollen skin in between his teeth to nibble it gently. His fingers tightened on his jaw, pulling the Moon god closer into his orbit, until Steve all but collapsed into his embrace. With a warm touch, Buchanan enveloped in fully in his arms, cradling the Moon to his chest as their lips brushed, pulled tenderly and tongues danced in tandem to the silent song their rekindled love produced.

Moments passed, and the stars above sang in delight at the love poured out between the two of them. Steve felt light-headed as he gave himself fully to his beloved, his glow warming under his loving embrace. For the first time in centuries his heart grew in his chest, warmed by the embrace as he connected with his darling sol, their legendary adoration for the other brightening the clearing around them both with each moment.

Finally, Buchanan broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to Steve’s. He didn’t move, and in his shuddering embrace, Steve cracked his eyes open to see the god of death watching him reverently. He waited, with bated breath, to hear what his darling had to say, what words of encouragement he could bring upon him now.  It didn’t matter what he told him now. Steve knew, from this moment on, he would always follow his beloved, no matter where the path may lead them both.

“Come with me,” Buchanan breathed, tightening his grip on his shoulders. “Come with me to my domain. There is much I wish to show you… if you will follow me to the ends of the Earth on this path.”

“Yes,” Steve said instantly, accepting his words reverently. “Yes. I will follow you wherever you go, my beloved. Show me what I must know.”

With that, the two gods rose, hands clasped tightly in one another as Buchanan led his Moon to his kingdom. The raven never left Steve’s side, a reverent sentinel of the god as he took his first steps down that dark path that had been formed for him so many eons before. For the first time, Steve knew what it was like to feel the pull of Falling…

And he couldn’t dismiss how enticing the journey before him was.

* * *

 

The chamber around Steve echoed with the faint calls of birds as they nested in the trees high above him. The room, expansive as always, was dark, save for the candles that seemed to burn endlessly around him, and the air was chilled, making the god tuck himself further into the thin wrap of his clothing for some sort of warmth. The white silk stood out against the dark backdrop of the furnishings around him, and he felt quite out of place, as he had for the past several nights, a speck of dust in an otherwise expansive sea of pitch.

Buchanan had left him hours ago, seemingly “off on business” as he put it. In a small way, Steve felt blessed that Buchanan had decided to leave him behind on this particular venture. He did not want to know what kind of devastation his beloved was about to wreak upon the Earth and their children. He’d only just begun to accept his lover’s calling. In fact, he’d only seen death laid upon the land’s small creatures as a shroud extinguishes a candle’s flame. The idea of seeing such widespread devastation possibly rendered upon their children was too much to stomach at the moment. Thankful, he was, for his love’s foresight in giving him time to grow accustomed to its reality.

But now, he simply felt restless, left alone in this domain with nothing but the friendly raven as his companion. Deep inside, he knew he desired to be with his love, to stand at his right just as he was designed to, and being without him, even for such a short amount of time after welcoming his world into his own, was beginning to take a toll on his heart.

With nothing more that he could do, Steve rose to his feet and vacated the chamber at last, taking to the trees beyond the walls of their little haven, before he broke free to the pale, dead lands around them. Even now, it was hard to look upon the Earth in its lifelessness, and he ducked his head. With light strides, he escaped the cold desolation around him, and set off into the trees once more. He hadn’t the faintest idea where his footsteps would lead him, but the urge to traverse the forests that night was strong in his heart. Deep down, he knew he would arrive precisely where he needed to be. It was just a matter of discovering where that may be.

The hours of the night trekked by as Steve passed beneath his stars. Above, their inquiries of what their beloved Sun had been up to for so long echoed in his ears, but he chose to ignore them now. There was no need in worrying them now. No need to unveil his true intentions to the young stars above. He would keep his vigil for a little while longer, he told himself. Just a little while longer.

Steve was so caught up in his own thoughts, he barely heard the whistle in the air until it was almost too late. In a split second, the piercing wail caught his attention, and he gasped, lurching out of the way. A split second later, there came the “thwack!” of something embedding itself in the tree beside him, and he stared, gobsmacked at the arrow hovering just inches in front of his face. Almost instantly, his shock melted into annoyance, and he turned to see the guardian, Clint, doubled over in laughter. “Do you endeavor someday to run me through?” he asked, pulling the arrow from the trunk and giving it an irritated look. “I thought we were friends, Clint. This behavior is simply not acceptable.”

“Forgive me, but I had to get your attention somehow,” clint said, approaching him to take his precious arrow from the god. “I do it out of concern for you, Luna. It’s not right that a god of your stature should be so distracted. I’ve been following you for hours now, and you never once took notice of me!”

Steve listened, his cheeks flushing red at his words. Of course… he _had_ been quite distracted. Clearing his throat, the god held the arrow out to the huntsman before speaking again. “I suppose you’re right. I am rather distracted lately, it seems. But why do you loose your arrow on me, instead of simply talking to me?”

Clint shrugged, tucking the arrow into the quiver on his back. “Can’t a guardian have some fun? It’s not often we Earthly spirits have the opportunity to best a god of all things!”

Steve sighed, barely able to resist rolling his eyes at Clint’s words. Even still, he couldn’t help the tug of a smile at the corners of his lips. “Very well, I’ll give you that.”

“And right you will!” Clint said, hanging his bow on his shoulder. “It has been a few days since you took your rest at our cottage. Have you found the answers you sought?”

Steve didn’t answer him. Instead, he gesturing to the trees and the two walked side by side, as Steve recounted the events of the last few days in vague detail. At most, he explained that he had found his Sun, and learned a few truths of his work, but left out his own experience in the process. He did not know what would become of the Earth if word that the Moon had desires to join his lover in darkness. Would his children feel betrayed? The Earth itself?

A small part of him hoped not.

“Well, that is quite the tale!” Clint said, looking to his friend. “To think, that all this time, it was your lover that had taken on the mantle of death.” Clint paused, glancing at Steve side-eyed. “And how do you feel of this change?”

Steve sighed. “He is my Sun… my Bucky. I will forever love him, no matter what he does. All that matters to me is the adoration we share for one another. If Buchanan’s work is to bring an end to the life cycles we once created together, then I cannot stand in his way.”

Clint didn’t get a chance to answer him. As they stood together in the forest, the whistle of wind began to cut through the trees like a gale. Steve and Clint looked up when the rushing winds gave way to the frantic flap of wings, before a flash of silver spirited through the trees. A second later, that flash of silver came to a stop, revealing the wind-swept appearance of Pietro standing before the two of them.

“Luna! I have news for you!” Pietro said, dropping to his knee in a quick genuflect. When Steve gestured for the youth to rise again, Pietro nodded, holding his hands out beseechingly to the god. “I have seen the Sun! He has been scouring the forest for hours now.”

“I know,” Steve said, shaking his head. “He has gone off on business for the day. I am well aware he is on the prowl this day.”

“No,” Pietro said, earnestly. “No, it is not that. He seems lost, as if his mind is not about him. I tried to approach him, to see if I could assist in any way, but he simply said your name and stumbled off. He looks confused… almost frightened! I think he’s looking for you!”

Steve listened, his heart leaping into his throat. “Where has he gone?”

Pietro pointed in the direction he came. “To the east, towards the mountain.”

Steve nodded, thanking Pietro and Clint before setting off into the trees once more. His heart, hammering almost like a drum in his ears, pressed him onward as he flew in his desperate bid to find his love. He didn’t know what could be causing such a distressing reaction out of his love, but he couldn’t bear to allow anything to happen to him if his senses were compromised. The thought, alone, turned his stomach sour with fear.

Quick as a flash, the god found himself approaching the mountain Pietro had spoke of, and he came to a stop. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Steve listened to the trees, to any sign of his beloved, wishing that the birds and insects would quiet their song long enough to allow him chance to find his lover.

Sure enough, as the Moon strained his senses and listened for his beloved, he heard it; the faint, mumbled voice of Buchanan, echoing through the trees. He couldn’t understand the words… they were not of any language they had heard over their centuries high above the Earth, nor was it the language of nature. It was something more chilling, and the phrases Buchanan spoke were repeated, over and over. Swallowing thickly, Steve followed the sounds of the chanting, growing closer with each step, until his wings flared in anxiety behind him.

Finally, Steve broke through the treeline, only to spot Buchanan lying on the ground. His bone wings were splayed out beneath him, his blue eyes unseeing as he stared up at the skies above him. His face, normally pale since his Fall, was now stark white, and his limbs twitched where they lay on the ground. At his side, the bone fox whined, nudging its snout against Buchanan’s cheek to try and rouse his master, but Buchanan was as still as a statue. The only movement he offered was the faint twitches of his limbs, and his lips as he mumbled those same, chilling words over, and over again, to the skies.

“Bucky!” Steve gasped. Dropping down to his knees next to his beloved, he lifted him into his arms, cradling the limp god in his lap as he cupped his cheek. He could feel the brush of thorns from his darkened halo against his leg, but he gave it no mind. The only important thing was rousing his beloved as quickly as he could. “Bucky… Buck, look at me! My love, please… please come back to me!” Steve begged. He brushed his fingers along his jaw and cheek, pushing those dark locks from his face as he pressed his own forehead to the brunet’s. “Please wake up… it’s alright. I’m here. I swear I’m here…”

Buchanan quickly fell silent, his dull, glassy eyes staring dead ahead. Even still, his trembling ceased and his words died on his tongue as he lay in his lovely Moon’s arms. A moment later, he gasped for breath, startling in Steve’s arms as he came back to himself with a fright. “W-what! What…. Stevie… what happened?” Buchanan asked. His eyes, now sharp and alert, were filled with fear as he stared up at his Moon, seeking answers for his confusing state.

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know. I found you like this. You were… muttering things. Unseeing, unmoving. I thought you had fallen ill,” he said. Brushing his fingers through the brown strands of Buchanan’s hair, he held him close as the god slowly roused from his spell. “You had me worried sick… I thought I lost you again.”

Buchanan didn’t answer him. He remained as still as ever, in his arms, almost contemplative as he allowed the blond to cradle him like a child. After long moments, Buchanan pushed the Moon back, sitting up on his own as he stared at his hands like they were foreign to him. After a moment’s silence, the two of them locked in this strange moment together, Buchanan suddenly rose to his feet. Without looking at his beloved, he turned away striding for the edge of the trees. His shoulders were tense, bone wings flared out in irritation.

For a moment, Steve wondered if perhaps he’d done something to offend or anger his beloved. His eyes, wide in fear, watched as his precious Sun strode away from him, clearly quite angry at that moment. But before Steve could allow himself the chance to fret too long, he saw Buchanan hesitated, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. And when he turned to face Steve once more, the Moon saw only love and faint bemusement in his eyes. “I apologize…” Buchanan said quietly. “I… it was nothing. I swear to you, I am alright. Let us go away from here together now. Please?”

“Bucky,” Steve said. He didn’t mean to pry, but whatever it was that had bothered his beloved so much, he wanted to rectify. “What happened… what caused you to fall under such swoon? Please, tell me love… tell me so that I can assist you.”

“There is nothing to assist,” Buchanan said, more firmly. Without waiting, he turned and stepped into the trees. “Stay or come with me now. The decision is yours alone. We will not discuss this a moment longer.”

With that, Buchanan vanished again, leaving Steve and the bone fox alone in the forest. With only a whimper and a creaking of its joints, the fox quickly glanced at Steve before darting off to follow his master into the trees.

Steve knelt on the grass, his eyes wide in surprise. He didn’t understand what had just happened. Had Buchanan encountered a dark force? Had he simply fallen ill? Or was there more to this? The god had seemed so blithe about it… as if he’d experienced such an episode before. But if he had, why did he not tell Steve about it? The Moon would move the very mountain he knelt below if it meant helping his blessed Sun in his troubles.

But alas, Buchanan seemed as stubborn as he ever had been when he danced the morning skies. Steve knew, logically, that he would not be able to pry out of his lover what was troubling him. So with a heavy heart, he vowed to let Buchanan come to him when he was ready, instead of forcing him to speak his mind. The last thing he wanted was to push his beloved away after he’d just gotten him back.

With his mind made up, Steve rose to his feet and followed after his love. His wings drooped in his sorrow for his Sun’s pain, but he kept his head held high. He would be strong for Buchanan, through whatever it was that troubled him so. He would always be strong for Buchanan.

* * *

 

Three days had passed since Buchanan’s episode, and never once did the two of them speak of it. Instead, the days and nights were filled with contentment, the two gods relearning each other after so long apart. It was a precious process, one which Steve held dear to his heart. Yet still, they did not make love to one another. Not until the time was right would they consummate their reunion once more, as two lovers lost and found in this world.

One evening, after the two had slept peacefully curled in each other’s arms, Steve found himself lounging beside a pond. The waters were cool and crisp, as clear as glass and shimmering under the light of the stars. He let his hand drag through the water, causing ripples that flickered across the surface, and the contented smile that graced his lips was as peaceful as the scene around him. On his shoulder, perched the raven. The raven had become a constant companion to Steve, lingering close as the god slowly welcomed in the reality of this darker, more somber element of life. In a way, Steve was grateful for the raven’s presence; it gave him something to grasp when Buchanan would pull away from him… something tangible in this dark and dreary world, so utterly different from the crystal skies Steve had grown accustomed to over the centuries.

With a small smile, Steve reached up and ran his fingers over the raven’s head, soothing the creature who took the chance to nuzzle into his hand and beg for a treat. Steve offered up a laugh, plucking up a gooseberry from the pile he’d scavenged from the woods. He carefully peeled the husk off before offering the berry to the raven, who plucked it up and ate it with zeal. Steve smiled, patting the raven’s head before turning his attention back to the pond.

Just as he did, he saw the water rippling, before bursting upward in breach. From within, Buchanan rose from the surface, the water sloughing off of him in rivulets as he pushed the wet strands of hair from his face. His thorned halo dripped water to his shoulders, and Buchanan huffed, allowing the shiver of chill from the cold water to race up and down his naked body, reinvigorated from his bathing. Steve found himself entranced, his eyes locked on the star-dusted aura of his lover, before his gaze traveled down, down from the broad expanse of his chest, to his tapered waist where the water ran clear. The surface of the pond came just at the base of his pelvis, and he found himself disappointed that it did not sit any lower. Almost instantly, Steve’s cheeks flushed red at the thought, and he cleared his throat, looking away from his lover.

From the center of the pond, Buchanan chuckled, drawing Steve’s attention back to him. Buchanan had taken notice of Steve’s prying gaze, and stood proudly in the pond, enticing him with a crook of his finger. “Do you not wish to join me?” Buchanan said, his bone wings fluttering behind him.

Steve stammered on his words, struggling to respond to a seemingly innocent question. “I will pass,” he finally managed to say. Shameful, really, that he’d allowed himself the luxury of eyeing his beloved when they hadn’t even joined as one, again.

Buchanan shook his head. Dipping down, he allowed the water to cover his shoulders, as he carefully tread the depths with his arms. “Suit yourself. The water is wonderful,” he added, with a cheeky smile.

Steve relaxed. He was pleased to see how content his Sun looked after his ordeal. Three days had passed, and the Moon still hadn’t forgotten the sight of his love, lying motionless on the ground. It chilled him to his core to think he had fallen ill without his presence. He wanted to pry… wanted to know what had caused him such ill those three days ago.

Instead, he settled on his lover’s past.

“What was it like?” Steve asked. When Buchanan offered him a confused look, Steve sighed. “When you Fell… what was it like? Did it hurt when you became what you are.”

The silence that filled the clearing was oppressive. Before him, Buchanan’s smile fell away, leaving the god looking stunned at his lover’s question. For a moment, Steve thought perhaps he’d offended his love, and his mind struggled to come up with a suitable apology. He never got to.

After a long pause, Buchanan sighed heavily, rising to his feet. The water ran off of him once more as he turned and waded toward the shore, where his clothing lay. Once he was out of the water, he wrapped the cloth around his body, his skin miraculously drying itself before he turned back to Steve. His eyes were hard, but not in anger. Instead, he wore the face of a man facing a grim reality, a somber spirit remembering years spent in hardship.

“It was… painful, yes,” Buchanan said softly. He sat down opposite his love, his hands folded in his lap. “Falling was unlike anything I had ever felt. I thought, perhaps, my grace had been ripped physically from my body, leaving me raw and exposed. Then for so long, there was nothing but blackness. I was not given an easy passage from heavens to Earth. My feathers were plucked from my wings, my spirit darkened.” He paused, glancing at his shoulder, where the star was burned into his flesh like an ugly brand. “I faced many trials during my passage from light, to dark. None of them, worth recounting without causing you grief…”

“Then why?” Steve asked, pained. “Why offer yourself up to the darkness, if it hurt so much? I still don’t understand.”

Buchanan glanced at him, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I think you do,” he said softly. “But I’ll spare you the self-reflection. I chose to Fall because… because the darkness was too enticing to ignore. My past life was not fulfilling to me… I knew that I could be so much more if I allowed the shadow to overtake my soul.” Reaching out, Buchanan took Steve’s hands in his, kissing his knuckles lovingly. “Besides… I wanted to Fall because I knew it would bring me closer to you. I wanted, so much, to be like you, my Moon… I would happily overthrow the heavens myself if it meant getting to be with you for all eternity. I just had no idea that my Fall would take me away from you… if I had known, I would certainly have reconsidered.”

Steve listened, his heart aching with guilt. So… Buchanan _had_ Fallen for Steve, in a manner of speaking. “Bucky… my love, why? Why Fall for me? You, so perfect as you were… what could possibly have been so alluring of the dark that you should choose such a pained existence, for so long?”

Buchanan shook his head. “You don’t understand, do you?” He asked quietly. “I fell not because of you… but for you. I couldn’t bear the hours we spent apart, nor the distance our paths often took us. You, with your comforting embrace, and gentle soul… you were what I strove for, for millennia. In my eyes, you are perfection, and I wanted nothing more than to be just like you.”

“You already were perfect to me,” Steve said quietly. His eyes burned with unshed tears, and he inhaled, a quaking breath. “You needn’t have gone through so much to make me happy. I loved you as you were… just as I love you now. Please… please understand that.”

“I do understand, now,” Buchanan said, patiently. “ I do… it was only after my Fall that I learned what I must do for the world you nurtured and cared for, for so long. So…” he waved his hand to the lands around them. “I continued on this path, knowing that I was bringing a peaceful end to the joy and wonder you have cultivated for so long, only to allow for new life to be born in comfort. For the first time, I was proud of what I had accomplished, instead of just vain for the light and adoration the world. Oh yes, I loved our children very much… but I was young, spoiled and selfish. Now… now I understand what it truly means to love them, to care for them, and to end their suffering when the time is right. In this life, I knew I was honoring what I admired of you, my love. I knew, then, that I would make you proud to call me “lover”.”

Steve listened to him, his heart cracking in twain in his chest. But it was not out of sadness. His heart broke for his lover, for he had experienced such a hardship without him, and was forced to learn what it meant to be as strong as he was, without Steve’s help. He felt as if he had let him down in some way, and he lowered his gaze to the ground, thoroughly pained that he had not been there for his beloved. “I am so sorry, my love, that I was not there for you. How I wish I could turn back the hands of time and undo this…”

“No,” Buchanan said. Reaching out, he cupped the Moon’s cheek in his palm, turning his gaze to meet his own. “Do not apologize for what has happened. It was not your doing, and I hold no blame on you, my Luna. These… these changes. They are good. I promise you, there is no evil in the action, and I have not met an undoing of my character. This has only made me stronger. I just wish that I could convince you to see it that way.”

Steve listened to him, his blue eyes shimmering sadly. Then, that sadness faded. Buchanan’s words struck true in his soul, and he found his curiosity warring with his seemingly unending woe for the events that had separated them for so long. He believed Buchanan that no evil had come of these changes… but he still could not grasp how _taking_ a life could be fulfilling. Not when he’d derived so much joy from _bringing_ life to the Earth.

“Show me,” Steve said softly. At his side, the raven fluttered its wings, almost in anticipation, and he found his very spirit shimmering with his growing courage. “Show me what it is that you do. I want to know, so that I may understand you better.”

Buchanan listened. His eyes, still soft with his worries, scanned the other for any crack in his interest. When he found none, Buchanan leaned back and offered him a smile. “Of course, my Luna.” Rising to his feet, Buchanan helped Steve up, before threading their fingers together. Giving his hand a gentle tug, he urged the other to follow him into the woods, the starlight cut off from them by the canopy of trees around them. Now, the path was dark, save for the faint glow of Steve’s spirit. Buchanan squeezed his hand. “I have been waiting for this opportunity…”

Steve listened, surprised by his lover’s words. He allowed the fallen Sun to tug him along, taking him on this mystery venture of understanding that he had been sorely ignorant of for so long. He tightened his grip on the Sun, as if fearful that if he faltered, he would lose him once more.

None of it mattered now. All that did matter was allowing his love to show him the path, and he would openly accept it, no matter what the outcome may be.

* * *

 

Daybreak was just rising by the time Buchanan and Steve arrived at their destination. Steve had been unsure of where their trek my lead them, yet he remained surprised to find himself outside a small, decrepit cottage deep within the woods surrounding them. From their side of the clearing, the cottage was unassuming, old, and quite run-down. The roof itself looked ready to cave at any moment, and the smoke that billowed from the chimney atop was feeble at best. Just from the look of it, Steve could see that the family that lived within was not well-off, and that they could barely keep their fire burning to warm them through the night.

This sight alone was enough to sadden the god, and he felt his heart wither within his chest. With his fingers still wrapped up in the grip of his beloved, he held him close to his side, seeking out answers wordlessly for why he was to bear witness to such a sorry sight. “Bucky,” he murmured. Behind him, his wings twitched sadly, the blackened feathers drooping to the earthy ground below. “Beloved, why have you brought me here?”

Buchanan sighed. His eyes, as soft as silk and brimming with the same sadness Steve felt within himself, slowly tore from the pitiful cottage before them to meet Steve’s gaze. “To show you your truth…”

With that, Buchanan gently tugged on his lover’s hand. Drawing him from the line of trees, the two gods, fallen and grace, crossed the clearing laid bare before the cottage and entered the small domain. Within, the cottage was cramped and dark, and the smell of illness coated the air around them like a sickly veil. For a moment, Steve faltered at the door of the cabin, and a thrill of fright filled him to his very core. Why on Earth did this homely little cabin smell so sick? Was this the work of his beloved?

Had he made a mistake coming with him?

“I know your thoughts,” Buchanan said quietly. “This illness is not of my doing. However, to end it, is death’s task. To step in and bring an end to the dismay wrought upon this family.” Pausing in the center of the room, Buchanan glanced over his shoulder, his bone wing flickering the faintest bit as if to beckon Steve to come further. “Come… you wished to see the truth of the Earth… please, do not withdraw now. I only mean to help you, my Luna.” He extended his hand to Steve, a slow placating gesture. “Help me to help you.”

Steve hesitated in the doorway of the cottage. For a moment, he felt the very real threat of escape tantalizing his senses. He had but to turn around and flee, to cast a blind eye upon the dank realities of Earth. He’d only ever known the beauty of life… it would be so easy to remain ignorant of the dark side of life, if he but had the courage to back out now.

Then and there, Steve knew what he must do. As much as he desired it, he had no wish to remain unenlightened. Buchanan had spoken fervently of the world, the side that had always eluded the gods. Buchanan saw things that no deity had ever witnessed. If Steve wished to support and cherish his beloved, just as he was, he had to take this step. He would not dare betray his love, when he was so close to the understanding he pleaded for for so long.

With a surge of confidence, Steve drew a sharp breath, and crossed the threshold of the house. Almost instantly, the stench of sickness washed over him, and the feelings of pain and grief within had his heart shivering in agony for his beloved children. There was much suffering to be had within these walls, and his apprehension melted away into despair at the sheer magnitude with which he could sense their suffering. “Bucky… what has happened here?” he murmured, daring not to speak up for fear of disturbing the tenuous peace within those walls.

Buchanan glanced at his beloved, his blue eyes brimming with sorrow. “What you will find in these walls is a family, poor and perfect. With an abundance of love for the other, each member would sacrifice and give to cherish their brethren, even to the detriment of their own health. The result is a life, lingering far beyond its capacity and the toll it takes on itself, and the Earth and lives around it.” Nodding once to his beloved, Buchanan gestured to the door behind him, urging Steve to enter and see.

From within, Steve could make out the sickly crackle of a ragged cough, and his stomach clenched in dismay. Without setting foot in that room, he could sense the pain with which the suffering emanated from that lone cough, and his heart panged with sympathy for his child. Without a thought, he strode for the door behind his love, wrenching on the handle to enter. He was hit with another wave of that nauseating scent of decay, and he nearly stumbled backwards in shock at what he saw.

In the small room, he found the sick man, lying in the cottage’s only bed. Around the man sat half a dozen people, ranging in age from tender adolescence, to the old man’s wife, who sat by his bed and held his hand in a firm, withered grip. Every expression in that room was pained, knowing that death was imminent for the old man lying there, though Steve couldn’t help but realize how worn they all appeared. It seemed that this man’s illness had taken a lot out of the entire family, thin from hunger and beaten down by tireless days of caring for him. It was a sorry sight, and Steve’s heart broke for each and every one of them.

“Bucky…” Steve murmured. He could feel the burn of tears in his eyes, his fingers trembling with the urge to reach out and touch this poor soul. “What has stricken this man? Why does he continue to suffer like this?”

Buchanan didn’t answer him. Instead, he pressed his palm to the small of Steve’s back, guiding him into the room. The two of them remained invisible to the inhabitants around them, two ageless souls bearing witness to the tragedy of life before them. At long last, he broke his silent vigil, laying his temple on Steve’s shoulder to comfort him. “Because this is not my task to complete. It is yours.”

“Mine?” Steve asked, wide eyed in fear. “But… But I can’t bring death! I can’t take this man’s spirit away from him! It goes against everything I have ever existed for.” Turning to face his beloved, Steve offered him a pleading gaze. “Bucky, please. I-I am not ready for such a task…”

Buchanan sighed, as if he knew this fight would come. With a tender grasp, he cupped the back of Steve’s neck in his palm, pulling him into a tender kiss, a brush of lips that soothed the trembles that wracked the Moon god’s body. Once he had quietly calmed the poor soul before him, Buchanan pressed his forehead to his. “I have attempted to stall the passage of time. I tried to allow this man to live when his hour had long since passed. But the longer I let him live, the more his suffering continued on. And in his suffering, his family joined in his sorrows. The pain grew, my Luna, it did not dissipate. So… when I attempted to finally end his suffering, I returned to the cabin, ready to allow his passage into the next life. To my surprise, I found myself unable to grasp him.”

The Sun god hesitated, his eyes locked on Steve’s shoulder before he finally spoke again. “I realized then that his soul was not mine to guide. I realized that perhaps the Fall had begun to claim another spirit. That is why I brought you here, my Moon.” Glancing up, he met Steve’s gaze with his own. To the blond’s surprise, he found his Sun’s own eyes brimming with tears. “You must be the one to end his pain. Help him pass on. Love your child as you always have and bestow on him the peace his soul craves. Please, Steve…”

Taken aback by his beloved’s words, Steve felt his very spirit shiver with dread. Fall… he was falling? To think that he himself had begun to succumb to the darkness was a terrifying thought, and he wished nothing more than to wake from this dreadful dream and never look back. However, the pain and resignation he saw in his beloved’s eyes was telling. He, himself, had begun to feel the siren call of succumbing to the same shroud that followed his lover’s aura everywhere he went. He thought back over his days, awed by the beauty of Buchanan’s newfound grace, and pining for the feel of those bone wings wrapped around himself. Perhaps, he hadn’t noticed the signs. Perhaps the call of darkness was enough to break the tenuous grasp he’d held on his own, long-standing beliefs that had been slipping from his fingers like the finest grains of sand.

And now, there was a soul, a child of his that was suffering before his very eyes, and he held the key to his peace. Swallowing thickly, Steve glanced at the palms of his hands, as if he could see the inky void of darkness consuming him then and there. He knew what he had to do to save his child.

“Alright,” Steve said solemnly. He met his beloved’s gaze once more, a set determination in his jaw. He could feel his own heart, cracking in pain in his realization that, yes, he would take that final step towards his ultimate plummet from light. As long as it meant he could remain at his love’s side for eternity, he would do it.

Buchanan bowed his head. Without a word, he stepped back, giving the floor to his Luna as Steve turned and crossed the room. Behind him, his dark wings fluttered gently in the room, a faint rustle of feathers that caressed the air around them. It was the sick man that heard his approach, his glassy eyes tearing from the ceiling where they had remained locked for far too long. Once his gaze had landed on the god, he offered up a weak moan, bereft of hope and filling with the twinge of dread as the old man laid eyes on the youthful, powerful god before him.

“Mercy… who are you?” the old man asked.

Steve inhaled softly. His fingers trembled at his sides, and he took the moment to gather his strength. When he felt steadier on his feet, he knelt beside the bed of the old man, invisible to the stricken family around them. “Hush child… I am no one to be feared,” Steve murmured. He reached out and took the old man’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “I come to bring you peace.”

“Peace… what peace is to be had with an old, sick man as myself,” the elder spoke. He gasped against the effort to speak, breaking into a thick cough that wracked his body. Beside him, his wife reached out with a cool cloth, dabbing the sweat from his brow as she mumbled prayers to the gods above. Prayers that Steve heard, loud and clear.

“Only to bring an end to your suffering,” Steve replied. He brushed his thumb over the man’s knuckles, soothing his aches with the faintest touch. “Your suffering has lingered for far too long. I have come to allow you passage into light, to leave this mortal coil and return to the bright spirit you once were.”

The old man nodded as his eyes brimmed with tears. “So you mean to bring my death at last. I will be frank… for so long, I had thought the gods had forgotten of me.”

“Not at all, my child,” Steve urged. His voice cracked in pain, and he lowered his gaze. “You have never been forgotten. Your place is secure in the afterlife. You will have youth, strength and song once more, I can assure you.”

“It sounds… it sounds wonderful,” the infirmed elder said. He gave the god’s hand a gentle squeeze before his strength left him and he slumped into the bedding. “But… what will it be like? Death, I mean? I have lived for so long, knowing the taste of the air and the kiss of the Sun. But what is death? Does it hurt?” Barking a weak laugh, the old man shook his head as tears began to flow. “I have lived for so long, I have forgotten the burn of fear until now. God. My guardian. I am frightened.”

“You needn’t be, my child,” the Moon whispered. Reaching up, he brushed his fingers over his brow, relaxing him with a tender touch. As he did so, he felt that flicker of light in the man, that burn of life, slowly extinguishing beneath his touch. For a moment, he felt a surge of panic in himself as he realized how easily he was putting out that fire, just with a simple touch. It was no wonder how Buchanan made the task look so simple. “You needn’t be afraid. Death is only the final turn in the cycle of life. Death is not painful. It is simply going to sleep. I swear to you… I will not let your soul get lost. You will have peace, child. You have my word.”

For a moment, the old man hesitated. Then, with the last of his strength, he opened his eyes and offered the blond god one final smile, an echo of the vibrant man he once had been, shining in his eyes. “Then let it be so. I am ready.”

With that, he closed his eyes again, waiting for his final breath to leave him. It was now or never, a turning moment in Steve’s eternal life. His own heart, shattering in his chest with the pangs of guilt for snuffing out the light within this sick soul, ached until he could barely breathe. But with the old man’s family watching over him, and his lover’s presence behind him, Steve knew that he could not back down. Not when this pivotal moment was so important.

It was when Buchanan placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder, in a show of silent support, that the god found his strength at last. With the sting of tears in his eyes, Steve reached up, and brushed his knuckles across the old man’s forehead. Within, he could feel that flame of life flickering, ready to extinguish with the faintest breeze of fate, and to his own horror, he found himself enthralled with the sheer power of holding it in his hand and deciding its fate. How easily he could control this man’s spirit… how simple it was to decide whether he lived on in suffering, or died in peace, surrounded by his loved ones in his final moments.

It was this light that Steve found himself grasping within the man’s soul, releasing it from its mortal bonds, and snuffing out his final heartbeat with the barest caress of love and blessing for his journey into tranquility. As he crushed that faint sliver of light from his heart, Steve felt the man draw his final breath. The pain and agony of his suffering finally ceased as his spirit left him to pass on in vibrance and fervor of a young man once more.

The moment the man’s life ended, the air around them warmed considerably as if the very atmosphere celebrated the passing of a good soul into the heavens. Around Steve, the family wept silently for his loss, mourning their loved one yet relieved that the burden of disease had finally left the house once more. And yet, despite the goodness that had come of the Moon’s actions, the guilt and the thrill he’d felt at literally holding the life of this man in his hands could not be ignored.

Dizzy with the overwhelming emotions, Steve stumbled back, his black wings flaring out in agitation, ready to take flight and flee the house to safety and ignorance of these dark moments. Before he could escape, however, Steve felt the lace of Buchanan’s arms around his waist, pulling him close to a broad chest in comfort. Almost instantly, Steve relaxed into his grip, his black wings drooping as the first of his tears began to flow anew down his cheeks. “Bucky!” Steve choked on his words, shuddering in the loving embrace of his Sun. “Bucky, please-”

“Shh,” Buchanan murmured. Pressing a kiss to his ear, the Sun god offered up his comfort to the blond in his arms. “Do not fret, my beloved. Please, don’t cry.”

“Please… may we go?” Steve begged. Turning in his embrace, the god laid his watery eyes on Buchanan, pleading to be removed from this torturous moment and his own desires to feel that power once more. “Take me away from here, Bucky.”

Buchanan nodded. Without a word, he whisked the two of them from the cottage. In the blink of an eye, the two gods found themselves returned to his quiet domain far away from Steve’s encounter. The moment the two of them arrived, Steve collapsed into his beloved’s arms, his own wrapping tightly around Buchanan’s neck as he wept for the soul of his child. With tender words, Buchanan soothed him, pressing kisses to his brow as his bone pinions wrapped around the grieving god with all the comfort he could muster. “Hush, love… it’s alright. I assure you, you have done nothing to warrant the guilt you feel. His soul is at peace now, and his family spared from their grief. You have done well, my Luna. Very, very well.”

“No,” Steve mumbled, his lips pressing to the jut of his lover’s collarbone. After a moment, he worked up the courage to lift his gaze, meeting Buchanan’s in a tender plea. “It’s not that. I felt… I felt so _alive_ taking his life! I felt pleasure in holding his soul in my grasp and snuffing it out. I h-have done the unthinkable. I took pleasure in killing a man!”

Buchanan listened to him, his eyes as soft as ever. With a sigh, he brushed his forehead against Steve’s so that the pricks of his thorn crown brushed against his hair in a gentle comb. “I know this feeling you speak of, and I can assure you it is not pleasure for killing. It is satisfaction in sparing the soul from its pain. Believe me, my beautiful Moon, I have seen the other side. I know what it is to see a spirit take pleasure in evil. You needn’t worry about a thing. I promise you, you have done nothing of the sort.” Brushing his hair back, Buchanan gripped his jaw in his fingers, holding Steve’s gaze steady on his own. “Do you believe me, Luna?”

For a time, Steve did not know what to think. A part of him craved the idea that Buchanan’s words were nothing more than comforting lies, and his guilt ravaged his soul to pieces. But as the moments passed, his anxiety slowly withered away into nothing. Buchanan’s eyes spoke no lie. He spoke only truth, and his reassurance calmed the anger and sadness that had overtaken Steve’s spirit. With his promises fully understood, the god slumped into the circle of his arms again, clinging to him as desperately as a frightened child to his mother. “Bucky, I am afraid… what if my thoughts change? My intentions? What do I do if the darkness claims me?”

“Let it,” Buchanan breathed into his ear. Tilting his head towards him, he brushed his lips over Steve’s in a faint kiss, tantalizing and sweet. The kiss was seemingly innocent, but the Moon could feel the fire behind it, the passion and want, and he took felt himself begin to give into his own desires. “Allow your being to reach its fruition. Evil will not touch you, as long as I am here.”

“You swear?” Steve whispered, not daring to move an inch from his lover’s kiss. His fingers curled, digging into the flesh of his back as his body, craving the touch it had been starved of for centuries, began to call to his lover for release from his worries and his pleasure.

“I swear my Luna,” Buchanan replied, encompassing the two in the shroud of his desires and protection. As he spoke, he drew the Moon into his chamber, pressing kisses that grew in power with each touch of lips and fingers. “I swear, as long as I walk this Earth, you are mine to hold….”

* * *

 

Time passed in warmth and breath. Steve recalled the tangle of limbs and lips, the push and cries of reconnection until they were one being once more. No longer separate entities of the sky, but one in heart and body, the hours of the night ticking by as their cries for peace and love echoed in the cavernous chamber of their domain. When the peak of bliss finally ceased its torturous refrain, the two had succumbed to their exhaustion, wrapped securely in the embrace of afterglow and love, promising wordless vows to one another that they would never separate again, until their passion rekindled once more to revive their earlier dance, again and again until the stars shone brighter than ever in joy for their Moon’s refound bliss.

When at last the two had finally fallen asleep, Steve’s fears were all but forgotten. He was happy, content, and in love once more, found in the arms of his lost Sun and content to lay there until the heavens fell and the Earth crumbled around them. Never had he slept so peacefully in his life, mindless of the world around their little dark haven, with the bone fox watching over them and the raven chanting his delight.

It was this ignorance that nearly cost Steve once again.

When morning broke, Steve woke alone in their bed. The tangle of the black sheets had wrapped around his waist, holding his nakedness safely in their embrace. He desired to return to slumber again, but the loss of his beloved in his arms left him cold and wanting. He forced himself into full wakefulness, rising from the bed until the sheets fell away to leave him bare in the stone chamber. It was then, that he felt the first stings of pain in his chest before he caught sight of his reflection in the looking glass across the room.

His heart leapt in surprise at his appearance, for he saw himself, though he would scarcely believe it. His skin had paled considerably since the night before, leaving him ghostly in appearance and his lips a ruby red kiss of death. His eyes, shocking blue now, nearly glowed in the dark candlelight around him, and his halo had almost extinguished completely. His wings, he noted, had darkened to the inky black stain of pitch, and as he held them aloft to examine them, he saw two feathers flutter loose before floating gracefully to the floor below. All of this could have been shocking enough to the god, but it was the final point of interest that caught his attention.

On his chest, between the prominent mounds of his pectorals, he saw a star burned into his chest. The skin, red and welted, was raised over the deep, burnt imprint of the star in his skin, and as he brushed his fingers over his chest, he felt the sting of pain lance through his body. He had Fallen, just as his love had done so. He was no longer a celestial being.

He, too, was a god of the darkness.

Stunned by his discovery, Steve took a moment to admire the change, both awed and uncertain of his appearance. Many questions raced through his mind, all clambering to the forefront in search of answers. He needed to speak to his Sun, and quickly. But where had he gone, his mind supplied curiously.

Taking no moment to spare, Steve grabbed for his robes and vacated the chamber on light feet to find the missing god. Alighting down the corridor, Steve made for the grand hall of Buchanan’s domain, hoping to find his lover there.

When he arrived, however, he did not find his lover. He found nothing but a smoking crater of destruction and waste overtaking what had once been a stunning palace of grim beauty.

Staggering to a halt, Steve gaped in terror at the sight before him. Nothing remained of Buchanan’s beautiful palace, but rubble and the stinking, fetid stench of sulfur and decay. What had once been the dais of his throne, was nothing but a hole in the ground, and at the bottom, Steve spotted the remains of the bone fox, utterly obliterated in whatever rampage had overtaken the palace.

“What has happened?!” Steve gasped, dropping to one knee in his shock. Buchanan was gone, his home, destroyed and not a trace had been left behind, save for that stinking, sick scent of pain and horror. For a moment, he felt lost, unsure of what could have possibly caused this, his mind reeling, his heart pounding in his chest.

And then he spotted the tell-tale signs of her presence on this land, the black slithering trail of her destruction left by the tail of her wicked soul. The sulfurous stink pervaded the air around him, and he knew. The Viper had returned, and she had taken his beloved once more.

“Ophelia!” Steve gasped, his fear turning to rage in his chest as he sprang once more to his feet. His fingers itched for the pommel of his blade, desiring nothing more than to snuff out the evil that had risen from the grave to finish what she had started so long ago. But where could she have gone? Where could she have taken his beloved Sun?

With his thoughts racing, Steve turned on his heel and fled for the entrance of what had once been the antechamber of Buchanan’s palace. His feet skirted the loose, rocky ground beneath him, causing him to stumble in his steps. Vainly, he tried to take flight, to speed up his trek toward the paths outside, but the weight of his Fall kept him grounded. Instead, he wings flapped uselessly behind him, kicking up dust and flinging feathers into the rotten air around him, and he cursed his poor timing fervently.

When he finally broke free from the suffocating trees around him, Steve came to a halt. The sight before him left his heart cold in his chest, and his jaw slack, without words. Ophelia’s destruction hadn’t just touched the palace behind him. Her evil had wrought the world in her damaging presence. There was not a speck of life as far as the eye could see, and his guilt returned to him tenfold that he had been unconscious through the whole ordeal.

As the sickness of his guilt overtook him, Steve heard the faint croak of a bird off to his right. He turned only to spot the raven, his constant companion, who lay dying on the ashen ground. Grimacing, Steve approached the wounded creature, plucking it up into his arms as the bird settled into the crook of his elbow. “Raven… tell me. Where is Ophelia? Where has she taken Bucky?”

In his arms, the raven twitched a wing, its cracked beak opening to choke out a short response. “ _Ether… below…_ ”

“Below? What do you mean?” Steve demanded. He gently held the raven’s head in his palm, pleading the creature to elaborate. “Raven, tell me. Where has Buchanan gone?”

For a moment, the raven did not speak again. It simply lay, limp, in Steve’s hands, as still as death once more. Then, just as Steve feared the creature had passed on, the beak opened once more as the raven croaked its final words. “ _Seek… the Witch.”_

It was then, the raven finally died, leaving this world behind, as Steve was left with these words The raven had given him a clue. Ether. Below. The Witch. “Wanda,” Steve gasped. Laying the raven gently on the ground below, he took to his feet once more and set off into the tainted woods around him. He could waste no time. The world had been utterly burned by Ophelia’s presence. There was no telling what her embrace could have done to his only friends of this Earth.

Faster and faster he ran, his wings beating the air around him in a desperate attempt to hasten his travel as he sought out the cottage of his dear friends. All around him, pillars of smoke and waves of sulfur continued to permeate the air in this post-apocalyptic void, pushing him on in his frantic trek through the dead forests around them.

At long last, Steve found himself stumbling into the clearing that had once held the quaint little cottage safely in its nook. Like the rest of the forest, the cottage had been destroyed, blistered and burned wood lying splintered across the ground. In the very center of the destroyed homestead, Steve spotted the hunched figures of three bodies nested in the wreckage. He cried out in dismay, rushing towards the three to ascertain if they had survived Ophelia’s passage. For a moment, his fingers trembled as they graced the brows of Pietro, Clint and Wanda, pleading silently that he was not too late.

It was when he felt Pietro stirring in his grasp, before Steve released the gust of air he’d been holding. While the young messenger did not rouse, Steve felt confident that he would survive this terrible ordeal. “Thank the heavens…”

“Luna,” Wanda’s voice broke through his thoughts. Startling back to awareness, he spotted the young Witch laying next to him, her eyes cracked open. Blood dotted her brow and temples, soaking her hair, and soot covered her from head to toe. She looked feeble, but very much alive, and Steve rejoiced in relief as he held her close. “Oh Luna, you have Fallen. The darkness… it suits you beautifully.”

Steve caught the jest in her tone, and he cracked a weak smile in return. “Oh Wanda. What has happened here? Has Ophelia done this to you?”

Wanda nodded, gripping his arm tightly. “Yes. She passed our domain not long ago. I tried my best to protect my brother and guardian… Pietro and Clint, I fear, have been badly wounded. I thought my powers were strong enough to combat the Viper… I was wrong.”

“Wanda, take no shame,” Steve murmured. “You protected them well. Without you, they _would_ be dead.” Brushing her long hair from her forehead, Steve’s expression fell grim. “But I can assure that her sins will be dealt with. She has taken the Sun from me once more. I do not know where she has taken him, but I must find them, and quickly. I dare not think what she may do to him.”

Wanda nodded, though her eyes glowed with red anger. “I have seen Buchanan. He is unwell in her grasp, as sick as pestilence. She has taken him to the Ether, her domain below the planes.”

“The underworld?” Steve asked. The thought sickened him, and he looked away. If Buchanan had been taken to the underworld, he could be trapped forever. Steve could not fail in bringing his lover back!

“Yes. But you must hurry. She has intentions to twist the Sun into her weapon, her fist of despair. You must stop her before she crushes his spirit and wields him in Armageddon,” Wanda urged him. Sitting up painfully in his arms, she grimaced again, and pointed to the wreckage of her home around them, to the vague shape of a dome poking from the soot and dust covering it. “Take the bulwark. Defend yourself and your beloved, and save our kind from this wretched snake.”

“I desire my sword!” Steve insisted, ignoring Wanda’s command for a moment.

“The sword is no longer yours. Only a spirit of Light can wield it,” Wanda replied, her voice firm. “Take the shield, Luna! You cannot waste anymore time!”

Steve hesitated, his eyes wide. His sword gone and returned to the heavens, left him defenseless. How could a simple, Earthbound shield protect him from the fangs of the Viper?

Deciding to trust the Scarlet Witch, Steve approached the metallic mound, and picked it up from the dirt. The metal in his fingers was light and sturdy, and emblazoned with the same star that now adorned his own chest. For a moment, Steve stared at the shield in his grip, unconvinced of its usefulness until he took the bucklers in hand, and secured it tightly to his forearm.

Almost instantly, the star on his chest burned hotter than the Sun, and he cried out in pain. Staggering backwards, he caught sight of the star on the shield glowing brightly as dark spirit and armament became one. In an instant, that pain dissipated entirely, and he gasped in shock, his eyes darting to the wounded Witch before him.

Wanda only smiled, nodding to the god. “The sword graces the hands of gods of light… the shield? Gods of darkness. You will not be powerless before the Viper now.”

“What do I do?” Steve asked, his pained chest heaving for breath. “How do I stop her, using this?”

“You’ll know,” Wanda urged, propping herself up to guard over her wounded brother and friend adamantly. “Now go. There is still time. Save your love. Save us!”

* * *

 

The trek to the gateway of Ophelia’s world had been fairly short. It seemed that the Viper had taken her entrance into this world not far from the cottage and the young Witch she had very nearly destroyed. It hadn’t been difficult for Steve to follow the snake’s tracks now. The once beautiful woman left no footprints in the ash of her destruction. Instead, she had taken her true form, it seemed, as the winding and serpentine tracks of her passage had left deep furrows in the Earth. They led the god in her path, almost mocking him with how easily she had left her print for the fallen one to follow.

Even still, Steve left his guard up. Before him, he held the shield aloft, his eyes scanning the terrain around him for any signs of the snake or his Sun. The air around him was dead and hot, stifling to breathe, and echoing with the faintest traces of moans from the underworld beyond the grave.

It was strange, however… it seemed that finding the gateway to the underworld was easy. But the gate had not been opened. Set into the stone face of the farthest mountain range, the gate was silent and still. It remained seemingly untouched, and Steve found himself confused. If Ophelia truly wished to pull his love into the darkness of her domain, then why had she not crossed over yet?

As he stood pondering the curiosity of it all, he heard a faint moan off to his right. Looking to the rocks beyond, he spotted the faintest flutter of a bone pinion, and his heart leaped into his chest. “Bucky!” Steve hissed. Rushing to his side, Steve dropped the shield to the ground as he scooped his wounded lover into his arms. “Bucky, it’s I! Bucky, what has she done to you?!”

Buchanan only stirred, blinking the faintest trace of blood from his eyes. As he looked up to his lover, the Sun offered him a look of confusion, as if he did not recognize him. For that brief second, Steve feared that Ophelia had taken his memories from him once more, before that fear was trounced by the glowing smile that overtook his lover’s features. “Steve… you have Fallen.” Reaching up, Buchanan cupped his cheek in his hand, and brushed the curve of his jaw with his thumb. “How beautifully the darkness glows in your eyes… more stunning than I ever could be.”

“Bucky,” Steve breathed, relief ebbing off of him. “Bucky, listen. Ophelia has taken you, and wrought destruction everywhere! We must flee now before she returns and find you missing.” Kicking the shield away, Steve wound his arm around his back, helping him to his feet with little struggle. “Hurry, love. Please!”

Buchanan groaned against the jostling movement, though he did manage to stagger to his feet. Once he was upright, he leaned against Steve’s side, looking up at him in confusion. “Ophelia? The Viper?” Glancing away, his eyes clouded in confusion and mistrust. “I do not remember-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve said, tugging on his waist to urge him forward. “All that matters is that I’ve found you. Come, we must away and plan her defeat. She’s already caused too much pain on this Earth to stand a moment longer.”

Buchanan nodded, limping alongside Steve as the two made haste for the canyon’s exit. Alas, they only made it a few strides before the rustling of rocks caught their attention. With a strangled cry, Buchanan’s voice rose in warning to his lover, before Steve felt the crushing weight of impact against his chest. He could scarcely breathe as he and his Sun were thrown, their grip separating as they tumbled to the rocky ground once more, winded and dazed by the sudden attack.

Shaking himself back into awareness, Steve looked up to see the hideous Viper leering above him. Gone was Ophelia’s tragic beauty and tempting aura. What remained was a beast, her serpentine body encased in wicked black scales and fangs as long as daggers. Her green eyes glinted in the low light, as she arched over the Fallen god, poised to strike.

“Well… dare I say I never expected to find you Fallen, dear Luna,” Ophelia hissed. Her forked tongue flickered out, taunting the god. As she spoke, the flanges of her spiked crown flared out, shadowing the god from the weak Sunlight above them. “Tis a pity… Fallen for the bastard of my legacy. The King of the Dead? Your desires really have diminished in your puppy-eyed infatuation for this heathen god you protect.”

“Be silent!” Steve barked, full of rage. He scrambled back, climbing to his feet as he faced the mighty snake that coiled before him. “I have Fallen of no volition but my own. You speak poison, just as your touch has scarred the land around us. Return to your domain and leave this place, or I will have you banished for assaulting my beloved and wounding my children!”

“Hah!” Ophelia snarked. Her tail snapped in agitation on the ground before she turned her great head to peer down at the unconscious Sun beside them. “You speak foolishly, Luna! Have you knowledge of the damage your own lover has caused to this Earth? You do not protect an innocent life. You protect the damned!”

Steve glared, his eyes casting to his unconscious beloved. He knew her tricks… knew how deliciously she could weave a web of lies or convince brother to turn against brother. He would not allow her venomous words to sway him… not when he’d learned so much. “You speak false accusations,” Steve said slowly. As he did, he inched back, towards the shield he had left behind in their hasty retreat. It was no sword, but it would have to do.

Ophelia only hissed in return, her eyes locked on the god. THen, to his great surprise, she barked a laugh, her head thrown back to the skies in glee. “You really are a foolish god. Always so naive. So innocent.” As she spoke, her tail snaked across the ground and curled around the limp form of Buchanan. With a sudden motion, she lifted the god into the air, as if brandishing him at Steve as she snarled her final words. “Ignorant to his station! He is bound to my bidding, Luna, by his choice! You protect the very thing you swear to destroy!”

Steve listened, and his heart hammered to a stop in his chest. Eyes wide, he looked upon his lover, watching with sick dismay as the Sun slowly opened his eyes at Ophelia’s declaration. Almost instantly, guilt flooded his features and he looked away from Steve in shame. “Bucky… what does she speak of?” Steve pleaded. Ignoring the gloating Viper before him, he opened his hands placatingly to his Sun, urging him to speak truth in this dire moment.

Buchanan did not move for a moment. Instead, he kept his eyes averted from the Moon, unable to look away further as the coils of Ophelia’s tail wound tighter and tighter around him. “She speaks truth…” Buchanan finally muttered. “When I fell… I allowed my wounded spirit to be coerced into her hands. I desired a purpose, and she gave me one… to bring death to the land and to our children.”

Shuddering in the grasp of his captor, Buchanan spoke louder, his words hurried as he opened up his sins to his love. “For centuries, I did as she wished. I ruled over the darkness of the Earth and delivered souls to her domain. I had no mind of my own. It was only her desires, and I fulfilled them without delay. And then… some time ago, long before you began to search for me, I discovered the skies again. I saw you, Luna, watching over the lands and the men, women, and children below, and I began to feel that spark once more. The desire to protect, to aid and guide souls… I did not know why. I did not know you. But… I felt a change, and I began to follow it by bringing peaceful endings to the lives of the living, instead of the widespread destruction I had once delivered without remorse.”

Steve listened to him, his eyes welling with tears. His earlier dismay at Buchanan’s secret was trounced by the painful tale he wove, listening with full intent. ”When you found me, my love… I began to remember everything. Everything I once lived for and Fell for. I loved you more than the Earth and skies, and I wanted nothing more than to show you that devotion. I remembered us, and our reign over the skies. Every part of me desires to return to that life with you, Steve. I have renounced Ophelia’s control over me, no matter how she may try to sway me with her poison.” HIs sorrow quickly turned to rage as he looked back at the Viper holding him, and he spat in disgust. “You may try to render me impotent. You may try to drag me into the dark from afar. But I will not let you win. Never again!”

Ophelia snarled in his face, tightening the coils around him until he began to choke in her grasp. “A pity, Sol… You had done great service to me, but your heart is weak. Dispatching you will not be difficult… nor will destroying the Moon you so foolishly lead astray. I fear your sins will follow you to the underworld, Sun… I sincerely hope you are prepared for your eternal turmoil.”

As she vowed his damnation, her coils tightened impossibly further. Steve heard the snap of Buchanan’s bone wing crushing in her grip, and his soul withered in dismay at the pained cry that followed. But just as Steve moved to rush to his aid, he saw Buchanan’s eyes dart to the ground beside his feet. In his panic, he looked down, only to spot the shield at his side. Suddenly, he understood. Buchanan had bought him time to retrieve the shield! He would not allow himself to miss this opportunity at hand!

“No,” Buchanan gasped, meeting her piercing emerald gaze once more. With a smoulder of fury, his eyes alighted with passion and rage, he managed to wrench his arms free of her coils, grasping her tail in a vice grip before he bellowed in response. “The only being facing damnation is you, you poisonous bitch!”

As he screamed, his hands erupted in piercing flames of light and fire, scorching the scales and flesh beneath his hands. As he scarred the dark being beneath his grasp, Ophelia shrieked in agony, her coils unwinding from around him, dropping him to the ground far below.

Steve was so awed by the sight, he nearly missed his window of opportunity. Aghast that Buchanan had managed to summon the powers of Light once more, he startled back into awareness at the shout of his beloved, urging him to act. Without thinking, Steve reared back and flung the shield at the Viper, the buckler spiraling through the air as a discus flies before the sharp edge sliced across Ophelia’s snout, slicing the flesh open in a torrent of dark blood.

“Steve!” Buchanan shouted. WIthout hesitation, the Moon rushed forward, helping his love to his feet once more. As he did so, he heard the pained howls of Ophelia’s fury echoing off the rocky caverns around them. Without thinking, he reached up, guided by the sounds of the shield ricocheting off the rocky walls to snatch it out of the air and slip it back onto his arm. “Steve, run! Take your chance and escape before she recovers!”

“No!” Steve growled. Turning to his wounded lover, Steve supported the god in his grip to level him with a determined look. “I have lost you once. I will not allow it again. We fight her together. We defeat her together.”

After a brief pause, Buchanan offered a nod in return, his own determination trumping the pain he felt from his assault. With a clap to his shoulder, Buchanan stepped away from Steve’s side, his fingers alighting with flame once more as he smirked at Steve. “I will distract her. Be so kind as to divorce her head from her body.”

Steve smiled in return, turning away from Buchanan. He saw the Viper finally right herself, her hisses drowning out the patter of Buchanan’s feet as he circled behind the snake. “You bastard!” Ophelia snarled, her fangs spitting venom as she advanced on the god. “You dare face me? I am the maiden of darkness! You cannot kill me!”

“Maybe not. But there is no harm in trying, is there?!” Steve retorted. As he did, he saw Buchanan latch onto the snake again, scoring her flesh in burnt rivets as she howled in agony once more. With her attention averted, Steve flung the shield again, bouncing it off the rocks above to send it careening for her throat.

His aim was nearly true. Just as he hoped the shield would land its mark, the Viper thrashed viciously, the shield glancing off of her neck before clattering to the ground again. Even still, the razor edge of the shield left behind a gaping wound, her blood pouring to the ground below to stain the shield beneath her.

“Fools!” Ophelia gasped. SHe flicked her tail again, throwing Buchanan away from her as she rounded on Steve with a vicious intent. “You desire to return me to the underworld! I will take you both with me!”

“I’d like to see you try!” Steve growled. His fingers itched for the comfort of the shield, and his eyes locked on the blood stained armament beneath her. He had only but to snatch it away from her, he could finish this. But as he plotted his attempt to retrieve the shield, he spotted Buchanan struggling back to his feet away. Battered and bloody, the Sun staggered forward, hellbent on distracting Ophelia as he promised.

It happened so fast. Steve saw with horror, the realization in Ophelia’s eyes, the distracted gait of his wounded Sun, and the window of opportunity quickly diminishing. He knew, even before the Viper, what her next action would be, and he darted forward, calling to Buchanan as he did.

Ophelia turned, her head rearing back as her fangs dropped to deliver the deadly toxin on her victim. She lunged forward, snarling as she barreled towards Buchanan, her fangs glistening with venom. But in her descent on Buchanan, she left the shield unattended.

Steve’s opportunity had come.

With a vicious beating of his wings, Steve took his last flight as a trail of feathers fluttered behind him. With unrivaled speed and agility, he snatched the shield from the ground and threw himself between his lover and his would-be murderer. He threw his arm around Buchanan’s throat, dragging him down as he brought the shield up to the thunderous “clang!” of her fangs slamming into the metal. With a crack, the impact shattered her deadly fangs as Ophelia screamed. The impact was so strong, Steve felt his arm break under the weight of her attack, and he cried out from the agony of bone breaking.

Crumpling under the onslaught of sensation, Steve felt Buchanan’s arms wrap around his waist, catching him before he could fall. “Steve!” Buchanan wailed, grasping him tightly in his arms. “Steve, love!”

“I’m alright!” Steve gasped, looking up at him with pained reassurance. “I am alright. C-come… let us end her now!” As he struggled to his feet again, however, Steve felt Buchanan hold him steady, and he looked up in confusion. “Bucky?”

“There is no need, it seems,” Buchanan breathed. His eyes were not on Steve; instead, they were locked on a sight behind him, wide in surprise and hesitant triumph.

It was then that Steve heard it. The pained whimpers of Ophelia, weakened by loss of blood and rendered impotent, seemed to fade by the second. As he looked away from Buchanan, he saw the Viper slowly slither her way back towards the gates she had erected in her passage into this world. With an ominous moan, they opened, allowing the wails of departed souls to escape into the world as she fled, returning to her domain to lick her wounds, unable to exact her reign as she had once desired.

When the gates shut once more, silence pervaded the air, leaving two gods in her wake to hold each other. Steve inhaled, looking to his bloodied lover and cradling his own wounded arm. He struggled to speak for a moment, before he finally managed to utter his thoughts. “She’s gone… we did it.”

Buchanan nodded, though his expression was grim. “For now. There is no telling when she will return, nor send her disciples to carry out her bidding. It is only a matter of time before this danger returns…”

Steve nodded in understanding, though his brief elation was quickly dampened. Of course, Buchanan was right. There would always be a force of wickedness to attempt to take its control on the Earth. That was why they had worked to protect it from the skies above for so long. With this realization, he gingerly wrapped his good arm around Buchanan’s waist, and pulled him into a tender kiss. He sighed in contentment when he felt Buchanan return the gesture in kind, and he smiled as he pressed his forehead to the other’s. “Yes… and when that should happen, I will be ready to face her again.”

“ _We_ will be ready,” Buchanan corrected. “There is no darkness without light, nor death without life. There is no you, without I, Steve. And we will never separate again.”

“No we will not,” Steve whispered in return. “I love you, my other half.”

“And I, you, my precious Luna.” With that, Buchanan pulled away, carefully guiding Steve towards the mouth of the canyon, practically glowing with devotion. “Come. Let us rebuild our kingdom together. We have much work to do…”

* * *

 

The last of the summer leaves had finally fallen. Across the windswept lands, cold fall air turned crisp with the first dregs of winter chill as the land slowly sank into its yearly slumber to await the coming dawn of spring again. It had been an age since the defeat of Ophelia, and in those years, the combined efforts of Steve and Buchanan had resurrected the land once more. Gone were the signs of Ophelia’s passage. What remained had been a virgin Earth, renewed by their love and returning to the cycle of life that had been so carefully put in balance long ago.

The summers had been warm as the lives of men and women below slowly returned to the fruitful Earth once again. Life was restored, forgotten of the pain it had endured under the agony of darkness, and over it all, the eyes of Steve and Buchanan watched over their children, protecting them from evils and guiding life to continue its constant ebb and flow, just as the gods had intended since the dawn of time.

Steve offered a sleepy yawn, and nestled back into the lap of his beloved. As he allowed his eyes to drift shut, seeking out much needed rest after a long day, he felt a tickle on his cheek. Grimacing, he opened his eyes and looked up to see Buchanan smiling down at him, holding a golden leaf in his fingers and a twinkle in his eyes. “Why do you rouse the dead?” Steve retorted, looking amused as he plucked the leaf from his fingers and tossed it aside.

Buchanan chuckled, his bone wings fluttering behind him. “You were falling asleep. I am not done yet, do raise your head and let me finish.”

Steve smile, and sat up. As he did so, the pinions of his own wings, now stripped bare of their feathers and bone practically glowing in the low light of setting Sun, flared out on either side for balance. As he sat up, he tilted his head back, feeling the tender pull of Buchanan’s fingers on the ring of his extinguished halo. The weave of the thorns around his crown pricked his skin just right, drawing a faint shiver of anticipation from him as Buchanan finished his task.

“There,” Buchanan said, his fingers leaving the crown of his head. “Done. Go and see what you think.”

Steve nodded, quickly crawling from his lap. With a happy flap of his bone wings, he approached the nearby pond, and looked at his reflection. What he saw made him gasp in delight; before him was a pale visage of his former self. THe blood red hue of his lips and the blue of his eyes glowed as he touched the thorny crown above his head, and admired his wings. He was beautiful… just as beautiful as his beloved now and he looked back to Buchanan with a proud smile. “I love it… thank you, my Sol…”

“Of course, my Luna,” Buchanan purred. Pulling him back into his arms, he placed tender kisses along his cheeks and brow, nuzzling him with affection in his eyes. “You are stunning… a beautiful visage of King…”

“As are you, Bucky,” Steve returned as he leaned in for another kiss.

He never made it. Just then, a laugh echoed across the clearing, disrupting the two in their moment. As they looked up, the two gods spotted Pietro, as vibrant and healthy as ever, doubled up as he watched the two gods fawn over one another. “Eons old, and they still admire each other as a child admires a pup!” he laughed, shaking his head at the two gods. “Dare not let your affections distract you from your task, else I be forced to erect a barrier between you!”

“Pietro, silence!” Wanda’s voice cut in. As she spoke, she emerged from the trees to slap her brother’s hand sternly. “Haven’t you tasks to tend to yourself! Cease taunting these two and get back to it!”

“Yes, sister,” Pietro said with a grin. Nodding to the gods, he offered them a friendly wink before vanishing into the trees again, leaving the gods and Witch alone again.

“Wanda, it seems that your brother has not lost his sense of humor after all,” Steve said, gesturing for her to approach them. “And how do your spells and tricks fare, dear friend?”

“Very well,” Wanda said, sitting aside Buchanan as she spoke. “It seems that your children have begun to learn their own magic of sorts. An advanced medicine that aids even the sickest of souls, I believe. Soon they will no longer need the skills of a healer or witch anymore!”

“Nonsense,” Buchanan rebuffed as he touched her shoulder tenderly. “Life goes on. Discoveries are only the natural order of life. They will still look to you for guidance in their newfound magic. A guardian is never not needed, Wanda. You have my promise there.”

“Tell that to dear Clint. He is distraught that man and woman have discovered a more efficient means of hunting. It seems his talents in archery have been waylaid for a more… explosive alternative,” Wanda giggled.

Steve grinned in return. “Well send him our way. Perhaps we can be of some assistance in reassuring him his station as guardian of the hunt is secure.”

“He may need it,” Wanda replied. As she did, she returned to her feet, dusting her scarlet robes off. “I’m afraid I must return. There is much to be done this night. Do rest, my kings. You are deserving of that after all you have done for this world.”

Both Buchanan and Steve nodded in response, bowing in return to her vocation. “Of course, Wanda. A blessed evening to you and your endeavors,” Steve murmured. “Do call on us whenever you desire, my friend.”

Wanda smiled, disappearing into the forest once more to leave the two to their restful night. Once they were alone again, Steve settled back into his beloved’s lap, gazing up at him with love in his blue eyes. “I love you, my Sol… Forever, will I defend you and this Earth. I will always vow this to you.”

“And I love you, my Luna,” Buchanan breathed. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, brushing the strands of golden hair from his brow in a loving caress. “And I will always protect you and the skies. My vow is forever true.”

Steve glowed in delight at his words. Grasping his hand in his, he brushed the faintest kisses over his knuckles, as he watched the stars gazing down at them in cool comfort. “There are souls on this Earth nearing their end. I can feel it,” Steve mumbled to his beloved. “Shall we get to work, and allow them sweet passage into the night?”

“There are no souls that suffer this evening,” Buchanan purred. He curled up around his Moon, bone wings folding into one another as they cradled the other in devotion. “Let them enjoy one last night with their loved ones. Our work can wait one day.”

“Yes, my beloved,” Steve whispered, feeling the pull of sleep begin to take hold. “One last night, is a grand gift indeed.”

Nested in each other’s arms, the Sun and Moon slept peacefully. Once separated, the two now graced the Earth together, twining and twirling in a forever song of protection and devotion. With the Sun’s love returned to him, the light of morning had once again brightened, leading into midday throes and fiery Sunset. With the Moon’s heart returned to him, the silver of midnight diamonds once again glowed across tranquil landscapes, serenading the sleepy Earth into the quiet swan song of serene daybreak. They were two spirits, born of life and guiding death, leading a careful ballet of souls through the eons in concert to the fates that will sing on, telling the tale of Life’s Rendezvous with Death.

**Author's Note:**

> A final thank you for the mods of the Reverse Big Bang, and my artist Halcyian! I had such fun writing this piece, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it! Thank you!


End file.
